7^ * ^^ 






4^ -^ ^y 









V^ a t • e 






» I •« 










.♦^■V 


















°o 





r- "^i^* i&^: ~*2* J'i 




4 .^ ^V«« ^ 









<^ 



#^ 



^d^ :%^ 





« 1. 






^ ^..^ 








=■#© 
%. 






;* . ^r' '-^ . »^ 









Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/overseasinearlyd01farl 




t)0'^>^'=»^ 



^^ 



/ ^--i '■) 











Lieut. John Farlky, ist U. S. Artillery. 



OVER SEAS 



IN 



EARLY DAYS. 



(1828-29). 



BY 



LIEUT. JOHN FARLEY, U. S. A. 



Edited by 
JOSEPH PEARSON FARLEY, U. S. A. 





w 



^-2? 



Dedication to My Honored Father. 



These fragments remain to show. They still exist 

and may still exist long after we shall have passed away 

and been forgotten. 

Letter front Rome, 1829. 



2 4~S5r£5 



^ _---'-*'«»?-»-^ 



g o 

I Cp "' SI 



PREFACE. 1 

There has recently come into my possession a pack- 
age of old letters and papers written by my father many 
years ago, some of them dated West Point, N. Y., 1820, 
three years before he graduated from the Military 
Academy. 

Through the courtesy of the editor of the Journal of 
the Military Service Institution, General T. F. Roden- 
bough, U. S. A., I have been able to present to the 
reader the major part of my father's correspondence 
from Europe in 1828-29, The package of old papers 
found in 1905, in the attic of a house on Capitol Hill, 
Washington, D. C, which was razed for the purpose of 
extending the grounds, bore the remark, "These papers 
may be of some use." This has induced me to publish 
the whole series in concrete form, but before so doing 
I must emphasize by repetition the observation on page 
— , first paragraph of a letter dated Paris, August 25, 
1828, where the writer says: "You request me in your 
last letter to give you a minute account of what trans- 
pires from day to day, but I must consider before I should 
attempt it ; however replete these new scenes may be with 
interest and novelty for me, a description of them may 
be quite uninteresting to a reader. I have a great aver- 
sion to journalizing, and will for that reason only give 
you a cursory account of the most remarkable objects 
I have visited." 

5 



CONTENTS. 



Ocean Voyage in a Packet Ship 9 

Dover Castle 13 

Paris 18 

'Xa Grange" — Lafayette 26 

^'The Hermitage" — -Rousseau 34 

Cathedral of San Denis 36 

Paris to Geneva 38 

Geneva to Florence 38 

Florence — Art : 40 

Florence to Rome 45 

Rome — St. Peters 56 

Appointment of Cardinals. 72 

Roman Society 7^ 

The Vatican 80 

Rome and its Ruins 87 

Rome to Naples 103 

Rome — Forum — Colosseum 107 

Naples . 113 

Genoa to Nice ......118 

A Descriptive Letter with Remarks by J. P. F .123 

Appendix— (J. P. F.) . . . 135 

Addenda i47 



/ 



Over Seas in Early Days. 

I. 

On Board the Shenandoah, 
O^^ Cape Henry, Va., July i, 1828. 

The pilot is about leaving us, and I cannot neglect the 
opportunity of sending you a few lines previous to my de- 
parture. To-morrow will place many leagues between 
me and my native shores, which I cannot leave without 
feelings of regret, only ameliorated by the consolation 
that I may ere long revisit them. 

We had a tedious trip of six days from Washing- 
ton to this place, but the first two or three days were 
in some measure relieved of their monotony by the nov- 
elty of being on shipboard, and the delightful anticipa- 
tion of being about to realize all my early and cherished 
expectations. 

I hail this as a new and gladsome era of my life, and 
one which, if properly improved, will eventuate in future 
profit as well as present pleasure. 

On leaving Alexandria we had the promise of a fair 
wind, and the excitement and bustle attendant on getting 
under way was truly exhilarating, but since then we have 
had continual calms. These have been compensated in 
some measure by the unusual loveliness of the evenings 



lo OVER SEAS 

at this season of the year. If you wish to have a specimen 
of my descriptive powers, I will give a moonlight scene on 
shipboard. 

It was on Sunday evening. The sky was serene and 
cloudless, the air was pure and balmy as it blew faintly 
from the shore with just force enough to make the flag- 
ging sails swing heavily against the mast. The creaking 
helm seemed to chide our inactivity. The moon was at 
the full and shone out with unusual resplendence, and, 
reflected on the calm mirror of the waters, seemed an 
expanse of molten silver beneath us. Above, the dark 
masts and spars of the vessel were thrown in deep shade 
and showed their well-defined outlines in bold relief upon 
the pure blue sky. At this time we had dropped down 
the river as far as the tide would permit, and orders were 
given by the pilot to come to anchor for the night. This 
order was cheerfully obeyed, the sailors becoming weary 
of inaction; and my reveries occasioned by the tranquil- 
lity of the scene were interrupted by the hoarse mandates 
of the pilot, the spirited *' Heave yeo!" of the seamen, 
and the discordant rattling of the blocks and rigging. 
With all the alacrity attendant on marine discipline the 
sails were soon clewed up and taken in as if by magic, and 
as the last lumbering sound of the ponderous cable died 
away upon the waters each one repaired to his post. 
Some, however, collected together in groups to rehearse 
their adventures or to become better acquainted, having 
most of them met on this voyage for the first time. The 
low and suppressed hum of their voices continued for a 
time, with occasional loud merriment at some happy 



IN EARLY DAYS. ' ii 

effort of wit from a jovial comrade, until, weariness or in- 
clination inviting repose, they betook themselves without 
choice to the hard planks of the deck or threw themselves 
on the water-casks or capstan for their bed, and enjoyed 
a slumber more refreshing than I could find in my state- 
room. 

After leaving the Chesapeake Bay and getting out to 
sea, I experienced a feeling of solitude and isolation which 
I cannot well describe. I had seen the last faint outline 
of the receding coast fade away in the west with the set- 
ting sun, and even after the darkness had closed in upon 
the horizon we could still descry the light-house beacon 
at its extreme verge, which appeared 

" Like a star in the midst of the ocean." 

As it gradually receded, and finally disappeared beneath 
the waves, with every other vestige of our lovely land, I 
could not help recalling to mind those sentiments which 
B)rron so well expressed in a similar case in his "Childe 
Harold." 

When I ascended the deck the next morning no traces 
of land were to be seen, and the sea had assumed that 
deep azure tint which is so peculiarly remarkable out of 
soundings, where it is always of a green color. As far as 
the eye could reach nothing could be seen but an endless 
succession of billows crested with foam, around which 
sported innumerable sea-birds following untiringly in our 
wake, as if to accompany us on our lonely voyage. There 
was a companionship in their presence and a kind of re- 



12 OVER SEAS 

lief in having some object for the eye to rest upon in this 
vast waste of waters. The kind of sea-birds commonly 
known among sailors as ** Mother Carey's chickens" are 
very pecuUar in their habits, and passengers, generally 
for want of other amusement, soon make acquaintance 
with them. They follow in the wake of vessels fre- 
quently for more than a thousand miles, seeming 
never to rest or sleep, and subsisting on the refuse food 
that may chance to fall from the vessel. 

The novelty of the open ocean soon wore off ; and the 
days of imprisonment seemed to drag "their slow length 
along" with most tiresome monotony, and the occasional 
sight even of a piece of driftwood or a mass of sea-weed 
had something interesting in it. 

An ice island, the spouting of a whale, or a school of 
porpoises were great and remarkable incidents faute de 
mieuxy and if perchance a sail hove in sight, the anxiety 
became intense to know her name and destination. Day 
after day presented nearly the same scene. We were 
going onward and onward with rapidity; but still there 
was no landmark of reference to show that we gained on 
our long journey. We were still in the center of suc- 
ceeding circles whose bounds were in successive horizons. 
The sun rose and set in the sea again and again with the 
same stupid rotation. We seemed excluded from the 
world — a mere fragment of matter, and yet a little world 
within our own sphere; or, as Irving says in his "Sketch 
Book," "Like a fragment of a world, we were hastening 
on to join the general mass of existence." 

You may judge of my delight when we entered once 



IN EARLY DAYS. 13 

more the green waves whose color told us we were on 
soundings. The lead was thrown and indicated sixty or 
seventy fathoms. Still we were a great distance from 
land. Some sand and shells were brought up, and I first 
hailed from them the soil of old England. It was my 
original intention to land at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, 
thence to have proceeded by the way of Havre to Paris ; 
but as no pilot-boats were off that place, I was compelled 
to land ait Dover. 

On leaving the ship I felt as if I had parted with all 
that was American, and followed with my eye our flag 
until it was lost from sight by the projecting cliffs that 
jut out at this part of the British Channel. These cliffs, 
which at a distance appear like an immense wall or 
fortification, extend up the Channel a considerable dis- 
tance, and to the eye unaccustomed to such scenery 
create an optical illusion by which we cannot correctly 
judge of the magnitude or height of the cliffs except by a 
near comparison of them with the shipping and buildings 
in their vicinity, which shrink into comparative insig- 
nificance. Being composed of chalk, they have a beau- 
tiful white appearance. They are surmounted by the 
towers and battlements of this well-known Dover Castle, 
and the town is embosomed in a delightful valley or 
ravine at their base. The houses are generally built in 
this valley or around a semi-circular beach, among the 
surf of which our boat was run ashore. 

It was doubtless at this place that the Roman legions 
effected their landing when they made a descent upon 
the island, and my fancy was indulged for a moment in 



14 OVER SEAS 

conjuring up the disciplined legions and cohorts of Caesar, 
whose motto was ever ''Veni, vidi, vici," and imagining 
the frowning battlements to be peopled with the barbaric 
hordes of ancient Britons. In such fancies and the pleas- 
urable sensations created by first setting foot upon the 
soil of our ancestors I would willingly have indulged had 
they not been interrupted by the matter-of-fact circum- 
stances of being annoyed by a crowd of lackeys, custom- 
house officers, and porters, whose importunity was worthy 
of a better cause. 

I stayed here but one day, during which I had ample 
opportunity to visit the castle and neighboring cliffs. It 
was gratifying to meet at my outset that which in my 
youthful notions and early love of the picturesque seemed 
most desirable to be seen — an old castle and in ruins I 
Here was the antique and picturesque, and I thought 
myself almost compensated at first for the toil of my 
journey. I promised myself a rich treat in exploring its 
turrets, cells, and covert way, and am happy to say I was 
not disappointed. As the packet-boat did not start for 
Calais until the next day, I took a ramble along a cir- 
cuitous path in the direction of the castle, which led to the 
main entrance or gate. Here an old pensioner met me 
and volunteered to show me the interior. He was de- 
crepit and garrulous, and gave me even more information 
than I wanted. He hobbled on before as well as his 
wooden stump and the infirmity of age would allow, and 
at every step rehearsed his oft -repeated story. He was 
an old veteran, who gained a precarious subsistence 



IN EARLY DAYS. 15 

from the bounty of the curious, and well earned his half- 
crown fee. 

I was pleased with the specimens of Roman, Saxon, 
and Norman architecture which were here confusedly 
blended together, showing the progressive improvements 
in ancient warfare in different ages contrasted with the 
modem. This fortress, once impregnable before the in- 
troduction of firearms, is a demonstration of the total in- 
efficiency of ancient defenses to sustain a modem siege. 

What is called defilement or commandment was for- 
merly unknown, and this noble work, which if isolated 
would . still be a stronghold, may be battered without 
difficulty from the neighboring hills. 

It is surprising that no authentic traditions remain 
and no manuscripts or chronicles of its early history are 
extant, except those traditions that are full of exagger- 
ation. By some the castle was said to have been built by 
Julius Caesar, and others, with more probability, tell us it 
was built under Claudius Caesar in the year 43, when 
Plautus was Consul ; others say in 49. 

The characteristic feature or horizontal trace is de- 
cidedly Roman. The form of the camp, ditch, parapet, 
and octagonal outworks also indicate Roman work, not- 
withstanding their high parapets and deep ditches show 
the innovations of Norman and Saxon engineering. 

I passed through the portal of the keep and under a 
noble archway, where the remains of an old portcullis 
are to be seen. Near this, I was told, was the constable's 
tower, in which are the old keys and the warden's horn. 

The keep is a kind of citadel in the interior of the 



i6 OVER SEAS 

work, which was erected by order of William the Con- 
queror after the design of Crundulpt, Bishop of Rochester. 
Being erected in 1154, i^ is now 675 years old. The gar- 
rison now occupies it as a barrack and magazine, where I 
had the gratification of seeing a well-disciplined detach- 
ment of the Forty-first Regiment just returned from 
India. The garrison at present is 300 strong. 

I could not but witness with regret the demolition 
which was being made of a part of this venerable antique 
Structure to give way to some modem improvements. 

The well, calculated for supplying the garrison in time 
of siege, is 380 feet deep, the heights being only 300 feet. 

Upon the apex of the hill, within the walls, is the 
most interesting antiquity, called the Pharos ; the date of 
its erection is unknown, but I was told by my guide that 
it was attributed to Julius Caesar's time. Near this is a 
ruined church, or perhaps a temple, from which we have 
a most extensive view of the British Channel and the 
adjacent country. The whole fortress is built of silicious 
rubble interlaid with Roman tiles, which has become as 
indurated as stone by time, and the walls, which are gen- 
erally six feet thick, bid fair to withstand the storms of as 
many ages as have already passed over them. It is mor- 
tifying to human pride to contrast these enduring piles 
with our own ephemeral existence. 

The beauty of the prospect can hardly be imagined 
by an American, whose eye is accustomed to rest on in- 
terminable forests, in contemplating the aspect of English 
landscape. The country, everywhere cleared up and 
pruned of trees, presents a continued succession of richly 



n 

•-t 
ct> 

t! 

o :; 

re H^ 

ro fa 

^ 5 
c ^ 

^< 
n ^ 

P n 

q J ^ 
2 a^ 






m 
ir! ^ 

9 GO 

< r-t- 

po • 



CTC) 






J 



IN EARLY DAYS. 17 

cultivated fields and variegated colorsTof the ripening 
grain, grass enclosures, and the well-harrowed soil inter- 
spersed with neat and beautiful thatched cottages. 

My guide's loquacity marred my enjoyment consid- 
erably, and, desiring me to descend by one of the court- 
ways of the parapet to a small battery below, he showed 
me that celebrated piece of ordnance well known by the 
name of "Queen Elizabeth's Pocket-piece." It was cast 
in Utrecht in 1544 and presented to the Queen by the 
States of Holland. It carries a twelve-pound shot about 
as far as an eighteen-pounder. It was fabled to carry a 
ball to "Calais green." 

This handsome piece has been lately remounted on 
an elegant brass carriage presented by the Duke of Wel- 
lington. On the chase of the piece is an inscription in 
old Dutch, which not being able to decipher, I rely on my 
learned guide for the following translation : 

" Over hill, over dale I carry my ball, 
And break my way through mound and wall.'' 



i8 OVER SEAS 



Faris, August 25, 1S2S. 

* * * You request me in your last letter to give 
you a minute account of what transpires from day to day, 
but I must consider before I should attempt it ; however 
replete these scenes may be with interest and novelty for 
me, a description of them may be quite uninteresting to a 
reader. I have a great aversion to journalizing, and I 
will for that reason only give you a cursory account of the 
most remarkable objects I have visited. 

Nearly every day since my arrival has been pleas- 
antly and profitably occupied.* On the first day I 
alighted from the diligence at the Hotel Montmorenci, 
where the Americans generally resort ; but not finding the 
accommodations so good as I wished, I soon after looked 
out for more agreeable quarters. I joined some of my 
countrymen in their mess at No. 2 Rue Vivienne. On 
the first day the time hung heavily upon my hands, and 
I sallied out alone to while away the time. I bent my 
way at random down the Rue Richelieu, and accidentally 
found myself in the Place du Carrousel in front of the royal 
palace of the Tuileries. I was not struck with its ap- 



* At another point in correspondence he says : "I have ap- 
plied myself to the study of lithographic drawing, in pursuance of 
the instructions and request of the War Department, and I am 
pleased to be able to send you a specimen of my * First Trial,' 
which has been very successful." 



\.» 



- I 



in^tol D C .J>°" exhibition in the Capitol building, Wash- 
fa ft th.?;i.'/ '^ '" '^^^ ^^" ^^^^^d with much favor The 
fact that the designer was not a sculptor rendered it imDossible^of 

maXde^L^ T^^Tl T^. "° ^^^^P^°^ ^-^^^ mrirat^he 



IN EARLY DAYS. 19 

pearance at first, and felt more veneration for the old 
castle I had left behind me at Dover. On my subsequent 
visits, however, I became more reconciled to it, and was 
even pleased with its appearance. It encloses three sides 
of the square, and is made up of several orders of archi- 
tecture, according to the fancies of successive reigning 
monarchs, all combined with tolerable harmony. It was 
founded by Catherine de Medicis, and completed by 
Henry IV., Louis XII., and Louis XIV. A high iron 
raiUng passes through the middle of the square, and in its 
center stands the main gate or triumphal arch, copied 
from the Arch of Septimus Severus at Rome. The pas- 
sage through this arch lead to the gardens of the Tuileries 
beyond the palace. It was with agreeable surprise that 
I entered these spacious grounds, fatigued as I was with 
the din and confused bustle of narrow and dirty streets. 
It appeared as if wealth and art had lavished their stores 
to embellish this beautiful spot. 

Spacious avenues bordered by shrubbery and flowers 
and lined with orange-trees and ornamented at intervals 
by fine groups of statuary, artificial groves and shady 
walks, green parterres and enclosures, and fountains of 
refreshing coolness appeared, arranged with the utmost 
elegance and taste. 

Classic and antique statues in marble and in bronze 
embellished the angles of the walks. Such as the stories 
of i^neas, the death of Lucretia, the race of Atalanta and 
Hippomenes, together with fine copies of the Laocoon, 
Ariadne, Diana, and the Apollo Belvedere. I anticipate 
much pleasure in being able to renew my visits and 



20 OVER SEAS 

viewing these objects at leisure during a stay of several 
months. 

August 25th. — ^Visited Montmartre, the place of mar- 
tyrdom of Saint Denis, defended by the French against 
the allied troops. Traces of that sanguinary contest yet 
remain. The hill commands a fine view of the city and 
its environs. 

August 26th. — I attended a fete to-day at Notre- 
Dame, at which the King was expected to attend. This 
church, founded by Saint Denis, the tutelar saint of 
France, upon the ruins of a temple dedicated to Jupiter, 
Castor, and Pollux in the reign of Tiberius, bore the name 
of that saint until 522, when it was rebuilt by Childebert 
I. and dedicated to the Virgin Mary. It is a fine specimen 
of Gothic architecture, and contains several paintings by 
celebrated masters of the French school. 

The 'sacristy contains some fabled relics for the ed- 
ification of devotees, such as a piece of the veritable cross 
and part of the crown of thorns of our Saviour, so we are 
told. But what is more interesting are the costly regalia 
of several monarchs; viz., the splendid coronation robes 
of Gobelin tapestry worn by Louis XVI. and those of 
Napoleon, Louis XVIII., and Charles X., together with 
costly vases, crucifixes, and other antiques, some of which 
are coeval with the foundation of the church. 

This being, as I observed, a holy day or jour de fete, 
a great deal of unusual ceremony was observed in conse- 
quence of the King's attendance. The shops were all 
closed, the square in front of the church was hung with 
Gobelin tapestry, the streets for near a mile were lined 



IN EARLY DAYS. 21 

with double ranks of soldiery, and the populace thronged 
every avenue. 

As it was necessary to wait an hour or two before his 
arrival, we had time to observe the ostentation of Catholic 
worship, and to compare it with our own more humble 
devotion. It must be confessed that there is something 
imposing in these ceremonies, combining princely splendor 
with mystified preparations. 

The effect of this scene was strange and novel. On 
the one hand was seen the archbishop, arrayed in his 
costly robes and insignia, attended by priests offering up 
incense to the silver image of the Virgin, while near them, 
and almost at the foot of the altar, several sentinels were 
posted. On the other hand were other priests per- 
forming on musical instruments in accompaniment to the 
grand organ, whose deep tones echoed through the lofty 
Gothic arches and mingled with the military music of a 
body of soldiers, who advanced up the marble pavement 
of the aisle and formed in files on each side at the word 
of command. 

This, which to us would appear rather an incon- 
gruity, was considered quite a matter of course with the 
Parisians. 



22 OVER SEAS 



III. 

Paris, August 2'jth. 

My next excursion was to Versailles. The King was 
to have reviewed the troops on this day. Every vehicle 
was put in requisition. We found the gardens tnore beau- 
tiful, if possible, than those of the Tuileries, on account of 
their commanding a more extensive prospect of the fertile 
and picturesque country that surrounds them. They are 
arranged on the principles of landscape gardening and 
contain much variety in sculptural ornament. The 
grounds are diversified with temples, pavilions, and 
statues interspersed among shrubberies, parterres, sheets 
of water, cascades, and jets d'eaux in every direction. 
The most advantageous view is on the lawn or plateau in 
front of the palace, where the grand Fountain of the 
Dragon occupies the foreground with the water-walk with 
all its numerous cascades and elegant groups, and the 
pyramid and chateau appearing between the dark woods 
closed the perspective. 

The troops, amounting, as I understood, to about 
5,000 or 6,000 men, were drawn up on parade for inspec- 
tion, but a heavy shower prevented the appearance of 
the King, to the disappointment of many thousand spec- 
tators. The Swiss Guards were the finest body of troops 
I have ever seen, and the troops of the King's household 
also appeared to be composed of the elite of the Army, 
being mostly young men of noble families. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 23 

August 2Sth. — The Louvre and the Luxembourg. 
The former contains the works of the old masters of all 
the different schools, and the latter is appropriated to the 
works of living artists. They are collected and arranged 
in such a judicious manner that one may easily compare 
their respective merits and find an inexhaustible fund of 
instruction and amusement. These galleries are con- 
stantly crowded with visitors and artists, and amateurs 
have always access to copy the paintings. 

August 2gth. — ^The Garden of Plants. As almost ev- 
ery institution belonging to the public is thrown open 
to inspection for foreigners by showing their passports, I 
found no difficulty in visiting the Jardin des Plantes, 
where the rarest specimens of nature, history, anatomy, 
botany, etc., are gratuitously exhibited. 

No place perhaps in the woild affords such facilities 
for the acquisition and diffusion of knowledge as Paris, 
for here the humblest individual has access to the fount- 
ains of science. 

The arrangement of plants, etc., in the Botanical 
Department is excellent. They are placed in soils and 
situations congenial to them and are all labeled. 

In the Department of Natural History are all kinds 
of animals from the arctic to the torrid zone, ranging 
freely in enclosures allotted to them, etc. The menagerie 
is extremely interesting to the man of science, being well 
stocked at a great expense and care. 

August 2,0th. — The Royal Observatory. In the gar- 
den of the Luxembourg this observatory is situated on 
that celebrated meridian between Dunkirk and Barcelona 



24 OVER SEAS 

which served to ascertain the size of the earth and es- 
tabHsh the present standard of French measures. 

Among many fine instruments was a telescope 
twenty-eight feet long and eighteen inches in diameter. 
The observatory was erected in 1667, and presents another 
instance of the munificence of this Government in the en- 
couragement of science. During the last year 300,000 
francs were expended merely in external embellishments 
of this building, while our own economical Government, 
with a full treasury, is hesitating to devote a few thousand 
dollars to the establishment of a similar institution, which 
is so much needed. 

August ^oth. — Received an invitation card to the 
Chamber of Deputies from General Lafayette. He is un- 
wearied in his attentions to our countrymen, and his house 
seems to be their home, so much does he enter into our 
feelings and interests. 

August 3i»?^. — Visited the beautiful cemetery of Pere 
la Chaise. Its magnificence is unparalleled by anything 
of the kind and accords with that of the city. Every 
Species of sepulchral or funereal ornament which the in- 
genuity of this refined people could devise or wealth could 
obtain is here to be seen. The most distinguished char- 
acters of the two last centuries are buried in this place. 

September 1st. — Bcole des Fonts et Chaussees. I have 
obtained permission to visit this institution at my leisure 
during may stay in Paris. It contains models in relief of 
the principal civil works in France, such as bridges, locks, 
canals, etc., and I find that I shall derive, from their in- 
spection, a great deal of useful information on the subject 



IN EARLY DAYS. 25 

of civil engineering. I have also visited the Conservatory 
of Arts and Trades, which is an extremely interesting 
institution, and assimilated to oui Patent Office. * * * 



26 OVER SEAS 



IV. 

Paris, September 13, 1828. 

I HAVS just returned from a visit to General Lafayette, 
our country's benefactor par excellence, as he is called. 
It was my intention to have delayed this visit until my 
departure for the south of France, as I would then have 
passed La Grange on my journey. But Lieutenant Fes- 
senden and I, while attending recently the nuptials of M. 
Remusat and Demoiselle Lasteyrie, were given a pressing 
invitation by the General to go out to the chateau with 
the bridal party. This invitation was seconded by Mr. 
George Washington Lafayette, who called expressly to 
tell us that his wife and daughters, whom he wished us to 
meet, were then staying at the chateau, but would soon 
return to their residence at Auvergne. We had no in- 
clination to decline such a pleasant excursion, and ac- 
cordingly took our seats in the diligence the next morning 
for Rosay, a small town in the neighborhood of the 
chateau. The distance from Paris is thirty or forty miles. 
The road being good and the weather delightful, we 
accomplished our little journey in a few hours without 
fatigue. 

At Rosay the General's carriage was waiting, and we 
were soon at the castle. My previous conceptions of the 
place were not very just. I had supposed it was situated 
on an eminence, like most castles of feudal times, but, on 
the contrary, the country around is unusually level. 






Marouis Marie Jean Paul Lafavettk. 



IN EARLY DAYS. ^7 

The consequence is that the distant view of it is scarcely 
remarkable, and nothing is to be seen but the acute 
conical roofs of the towers rising above the dark green 
foliage. We were compensated, however, by a nearer 
view, for the approach to the main entrance is by an 
avenue lined on each side by dark hemlocks, which fling 
their heavy boughs across the path, forming a deep, 
shady vista, through which is seen the picturesque arch 
of the northern gate, overgrown with ivy and flanked by 
the circular towers. 

Above the gate and in the towers were a few cren- 
elated loopholes, intended for defense formerly, which 
now perform the less belligerent office of windows. They 
were nearly obscured by the luxuriant growth of ivy, 
through which peered the figures of the domestics or 
the younger members of the family whom curiosity had 
drawn thither to reconnoiter the new-comers. All this 
side of the building was in deep shade, and the sun, which 
was just setting, threw his rays obliquely across the court- 
yard within and relieved out the archway and exterior 
walls with beautiful effect, and the rich, mellow, and 
golden tinge which was shed over all the conspicuous ob- 
jects within and above gave more somber and gloomy 
shade to the dark hemlocks. I was much prepossessed 
with the external aspect, and everything within promised 
domestic comfort and hospitality truly in keeping with 
its venerated proprietor. Like him, there was something 
venerable and patriarchal in its appearance as it over- 
looked the surrounding hamlets of the peasantry, and, 



28 OVER SEAS 

though war-worn and antiquated and Hke him a remnant 
of other times, all was plain and unaffected within. 

We drew up in the courtyard, and on alighting were 
shown into the General's library, where we received his 
benevolent greetings and his kindest welcome. He then 
introduced us to all of the members of his family, which 
consisted at that time, including his grandchildren and 
those who were collected together on this bridal occasion, 
of about sixteen or seventeen persons. It was delightful 
to see the old gentleman surrounded by his children, all 
joyous, happy, and affectionate as they are, and looking 
up to him with feelings of pride and exultation in his well- 
earned fame. He seemed to remind me of the venerable 
remains of an old oak, which once proudly overtopped 
the trees of the forest, from whose root the young scions 
spring up, and whose shattered trunk is crowned with the 
ivy and the laurel. 

Among so many young persons as were there we were 
at no loss for amusement, and the Demoiselles Lasteyrie 
and the pretty daughters of George Washington Lafay- 
ette exerted their charms of conversation and accomphsh- 
ment to entertain their guests. Of the latter, the draw- 
ings of Clementine and the vivacity of Matilda con- 
tributed a great deal to our entertainment. Every mode 
of diversion which they could devise was successfully 
tried to make our time pass agreeably, and we beguiled 
ourselves alternately between music, paintings, walking, 
and conversation. Among other things, we were shown 
the little room in which the General has collected all 
the Indian curiosities and presents which have been made 



IN EARLY DAYS. 29 

to him from time to time — quite a miniature museum, 
which he takes great pride in showing. 

The same may be said of his farmyard or grange, 
from which the place takes its name. It is a large rect- 
angular enclosure with buildings around it, in which he 
not only keeps his live stock, of cattle, etc., some of which 
are rare presents, but also his aviary, consisting of beau- 
tiful wild and domestic birds. 

On the first evening we sallied out to take a walk 
around the chateau by a road which leads for about two 
or three miles among the trees and lawn in its vicinity. 
On the next morning I awoke at an early hour, and the 
novelty of having slept in an old castle being somewhat 
unusual to me, I determined to explore my romantic po- 
sition, and, dressing myself, I descended the circular 
staircase of the tower before anyone was astir, and, 
crossing the moat, emerged upon the open lawn in front 
of the chateau. 

It was about sunrise, and the eastern front of the 
castle appeared in all its beauty. I took a turn down a 
walk that led to the garden around the outer edge of the 
moat. It was hemmed by drooping willows, the branches 
of which hung over the ditch in which they were reflected 
as in a mirror, with a thin outline relieved by the perfect 
reflection of the blue sky. The battlements all gave back 
their inverted image. The morning air was pure and 
serene, and the surface of the water was perfectly un- 
ruffled. The spire of what was formerly an old abbey 
rose above the trees on the one hand, finely contrasting 
with the odd architecture of the old castle on the other. 



30 OVER SEAS 

I stopped to contemplate a scene of so much tranquillity 
and beauty, and regretted that I had omitted my pencil 
in this instance. There were three towers on this front 
nearly obscured by ivy, from one of which I could dis- 
tinguish the tones of Clementine's piano, as she was prac- 
ticing before any of the family had risen. While we re- 
mained at La Orange there was scarcely a nook in the 
park or adjacent grounds that was not explored by our 
charming young guides, who seemed determined that no 
favorite haunt of theirs should escape our admiration. 

The General, in consideration of my acquaintance 
with his friend Mrs. Lewis, showed me many little me- 
mentos he had received from the Custis family, among 
which were medallions containing the names of Wash- 
ington's family and a ring set with the braided hair of 
Washington and Franklin. 

While he was in this country Mrs. Lewis presented 
him with a view of her residence at Woodlawn, which she 
had requested me to sketch for him, but which, having 
been made some time since, I had nearly forgotten. He, 
however, gave me a proof of his better memory by re- 
minding me of the circumstances and by showing me the 
drawing, which is hung up in the library tower. 

His library and salon are ornamented with the busts 
and portraits of our Presidents and other distinguished 
patriots, together with that of Kosciusko, and everything 
in compliment to us is done in American style. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 31 

Lafaykttk's Comment on Dbath of Adams 
and jeffkrson. 

John Adams and Thomas Jefferson. It will he re- 
membered that those two patriots died within three hours of 
each other on July ^th of that year. The handwriting of 
Lafayette is plain enough not to necessitate the transposition 
of the following letter into type: 




'^fc*- /^/ /pt^^ ^^X ^£^u^ ,^/Z^ /^^''fty ^j^^^y^uJ £^ ^a^ty 4tf^J 




32 OVER SEAS 

I have forwarded by another conveyance an auto- 
graph of his, on which I will make no other comment than 
to repeat his own words when he gave it to me. He says 
that if you should detect him in a plagiarism, you must, 
at least, give him credit for being a man of taste in the 
selection of the lines he has sent you. (See opposite page.) 

He enjoys good health at this time, and takes great 
satisfaction in walking around his farm and showing it to 
his numerous visitors. There are already eight strangers 
here, and Mrs. Mayo and her party are expected shortly. 

Being sensible of the inconvenience to which they 
must be subjected by such a continual crowd of guests, 
we shall shorten our visit as soon as we can find an excuse 
for taking leave of them. We paid a passing tribute to 
the memory of the unfortunate Somerville by visiting 
his tomb, which is about a mile from here and in the 
cemetery belonging to the castle. It is designated by a 
plain horizontal slab of white marble, and at the head of 
the grave is another slab, on which is inscribed in French 
and BngHsh his name, rank, and his request to be interred 
at La Grange, together with a testimonial of the General's 
regret and friendship, etc., the whole enclosed by a neat 
iron railing. 

The General took leave of us in a truly paternal and 
affectionate manner, saying that he regarded us as his 
American sons, and we on our part left him with that re- 
gret which always accompanies the thoughts of leaving a 
friend whom we never expect to see again on this side of 
the grave. 




^\^ '^ 



34 OVER SEAS 



V. 

Paris, October 13, 1828. 

A FEW days since, accompanied by Mr. Fessenden, I 
visited the Hermitage (the former residence of Jean J. 
Rousseau), which is about nine leagues from Paris, at the 
village of Montmorenci. We occupied one day in seeing 
this and the Cathedral of St. Denis as we passed it on our 
return. Both these places attract crowds of visitors, the 
former on account of its association with that distin- 
guished man and the celebrated Alexis Gretry, and the 
latter from its being the grand mausoleum of all the 
kings of France for thirteen centuries. 

At the Hermitage no one resides at present except 
the housekeeper, who studiously pointed out to us every 
object worthy of interest. The garden first attracted 
our attention, which, though not extensive, is arranged 
with such good taste as to appear to be larger than it 
really is. It is situated on the side of the declivity below 
the house. On entering the gravel walk that leads from 
the house a rose-tree was shown which Rousseau had 
planted with his own hands and which formed the subject 
of some of his poetical effusions. Farther on, the walk 
loses itself in a small copse and divides itself into small 
labyrinthine by-paths, so artfully managed as to lead one 
to suppose that the distance through this mimic forest is 
much greater than it really is. Above the trees mingle 
their dense foliage and intertwine their branches, forming 



IN EARLY DAYS. 35 

an arch nearly impervious to the sun's rays. Beneath 
the feet the greensward and moss form a verdant car- 
pet, which is occasionally broken by rocks and ever- 
greens to ape the playful irregularity of Nature. 

At the lower part of the garden is the tomb of Gretry, 
near an artificial and miniature cascade made by a little 
rivulet ingeniously conducted to this spot. Beside this 
tombstone is Gretry 's bust, beneath the pedestal of which 
his heart is buried. Within a few steps of this, and at the 
foot of the cascade, is shown a moss-covered stone on 
which Rousseau was accustomed to compose, and where 
it is said he wrote his "Emile." The solitude and unin- 
terrupted tranquillity of such a delightful retreat we 
may suppose was admirably suited to the contemplations 
of the philosopher and the fancy of the poet. 

At the upper end of the garden is a niche in the garden 
wall in which Madame d'Bpinay placed the bust of Rous- 
seau, and underneath it a marble tablet and inscription 
expressive of her friendship for him. 

On our return to the house his little parlor, which is 
usually kept closed, was thrown open to us. The door 
opening upon the garden was released from its rusty bolts 
and bars, and the damp and dark interior reminded us not 
a little of the moldiness of a tomb. The shutters being 
thrown open, the light of the sun, so seldom admitted, 
broke gladly in and discovered everything as left at Rous- 
seau's death. The tables, bedstead, chairs, etc., were 
religiously made to occupy their respective posts. The 
furniture showed the inroads that Time was silently and 
gradually making by the gnawing tooth of his coadjutor, 



36 OVER SEAS 

the worm. An unstrung clavichord, on which Gretry 
composed some of his finest pieces, occupied the middle 
of the floor, placed upon an old tottering table. Every- 
thing connected with Rousseau and his friend inspired us 
with a species of reverence, and as we stood in the birth- 
place of his '*Bloise" we could not divest ourselves of the 
feeling that its former occupant might unexpectedly come 
in upon his visitors. 

With the appearance of the Cathedral of St. Denis 
we were much gratified. It stands on the site of an old 
chapel erected by a Christian lady by the name of Ca- 
tullis, wherein she deposited the remains of the martyred 
St. Denis. A part of the sculpture of this chapel is built 
into the present venerable structure, displaying a striking 
contrast between the rude sculpture of Dagobert and the 
more splendid modern production. This antique rep- 
resents Charon employed in ferrying royal ghosts across 
the Styx. This place was rifled during the Revolution, 
and regal dust consequently met indignities, and heroes' 
bones became the playthings of children. However, to- 
ward the end of Bonaparte's reign he restored it in a great 
measure to its ancient magnificence by causing the sub- 
terranean chapels to be freed from their rubbish and by 
fitting them up afterward with great taste. In this no 
doubt the vanity of the Emperor had some share, re- 
serving, as he did, the most conspicuous place for himself 
and the dynasty he wished to create. 

The subterranean passage passing around the rear 
of the building and beneath the altar is semi-circular and 
contains on each side vaulted recesses, in which are 



IN EARLY DAYS. 37 

sarcophagi of all the kings and several of the queens of 
France from the time of Clovis to that of Louis XVIII., 
arranged according to their respective dynasties. Each 
sarcophagus has its effigy sculptured in white marble, re- 
cumbent with the face upward. In the center of this 
semi-circular passage is the tomb reserved by Napoleon 
for himself. The entrance is formed by a very ancient 
Gothic door, taken from the old chapel and enclosed by 
two very massive doors in bronze. This has since been 
filled up by masonry and its blank appearance, together 
with the unfinished inscription, forcibly reminds us of 
the singular fate of that great man and teaches a humil- 
iating lesson to human pride. ^ 



38 OVER SEAS 



VI. 

Rome, November, 1828. 

Thu route from Paris to Geneva was exceedingly 
uninteresting and fatiguing. We were four days on the 
route, and it was not until we had passed the Jura Mount- 
ains and entered Switzerland that our interest was 
awakened. But from that moment every step presented 
something new to excite wonder and admiration. The 
view of the valley of Lake Leman from the Jura Mount- 
ains on the approach toward the city of Geneva was a 
more beautiful and sublime scene than had ever before 
met my eye. 

After toiling for many hours up the western side of 
the mountains, with eleven horses attached to the dili- 
gence, we attained the summit, and turning an abrupt 
angle of the road, just before it begins to descend, this 
magnificent scene burst upon our view. 

The whole Pays de Vaud and the lake were spread 
beneath us like one vast map, and before us the Alps of 
the Savoian chain closed in the distance, and seemed to 
form an impassable barrier to Italy, our land of promise. 

In this chain Mont Blanc was preeminent, rising, as 
it does, fourteen or fifteen thousand feet above the level 
of the sea. The first effect of this scene almost beggars 
description, and Mont Blanc, though at least sixty or 
seventy miles off, seems to be within eight or ten. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 39 

h. The prospect of the plains of the Pays de Vaud, so 
fertile and so well cultivated, at this time of year was the 
more strikingly beautiful. 

Castles, towers, hermitages, etc., etc., were scattered 
among the cliffs, high up to the eyries of the eagle and 
in places where one would suppose the chamois could 
scarcely gain a footing. Below us the most extensive 
farms seemed diminished by the distance to mere gardens, 
and the numeious villages of the thickly populated 
country were almost lost to the eye amidst the grandeur 
of the surrounding scenery. 

To the plain the autumn had imparted its rich, di- 
versified, and mellow hues, and to the pine-covered 
mountains a vivid green, while higher up their summits, 
covered with the pure whiteness of perennial snows and 
brightened by sunbeams, were relieved in bold and de- 
cided outline against the clear blue sky. We remained 
long enough in Geneva to see its fortifications, and found 
it a delightful place — a most enchanting residence, I 
should judge, in summer. 

In fact, its attractions are such at that season as to 
make it a great resort of strangers, many of whom are 
induced to fix upon this place as a residence, and the banks 
of Lake Leman are crowded with the villas of the English 
nobility. 

The concourse of travelers who pass through Geneva 
on their way to Italy conduces so much to the interests 
of the inhabitants and to the country generally that they 
meet with great civility and every pains is taken to make 
their stay agreeable. 



40 OVER SEAS 

The intercourse of numerous English families that 
have settled here has had a great influence upon society 
and has led to the introduction of many domestic com- 
forts, such as are found in England and America; the 
climate also is the most salubrious in the world. 

From Geneva we determined to travel ''en voiture" 
to Rome, a mode of transit generally preferred to that of 
the diligence or post-chaise, since it enables a journey to 
be made leisurely and by daylight, with comfortable rest 
at night. 

We accordingly obtained a commodious carriage for 
four persons, as we were accompanied by two gentlemen 
with whom we had become acquainted on our way to 
Dijon. There was, to be sure, dissimilarity in our pro- 
fession, they being Jesuit priests and we officers of the 
Army; but we found them, nevertheless, very agreeable 
company. 

One of them was a Fleming by the name of De 
Necker, a naturalized American, belonging to New Or- 
leans, and the other a Pole by the name of Tiouch- 
scoffski; they were both highly intelligent men. 

We had chosen the grand military road of the Simplon 
to cross the Alps, in order to view the stupendous work of 
which we had heard so much. 

Following the route along the northern shore of Lake 
Leman, after passing through Lousanne, we stopped at 
the Castle of Chillon. It was built in the beginning of the 
thirteenth century, and its dungeons have been rendered 
classical by Byron. It was here that Bonnivard was con- 
fined by the Duke of Savoy, and from this we have the 



IN EARLY DAYS. 4t 

poem "The Prisoner of Chillon." Byron has engraved 
his name upon the pillar to which the prisoner was 
chained, and the following lines have immortalized the 
spot: 

"Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, 

And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod 

Until his very footsteps have left a trace, 
Worn, as if thy cold pavements were a sod. 

By Bonnivard ! May none these marks efface, 
For they appeal from tyranny to God." 

The dungeons are below the level of the lake, and 
around the base of the pillar the pavement is fretted end 
worn by the continual tread of the unfortunate prisoner. 
Near this pillar are two others, in which are the rings to 
which his fellow-prisoners were chained. 

Our voiture was among the last which would cross 
the Alps this fall, the season being so far advanced as to 
render it dangerous. Had it not been for this, I should 
not have abandoned my original purpose of visiting Mont 
Blanc, which was but fifteen miles distant from our road, 
and so I was deprived of the pleasure I had at first an- 
ticipated of climbing the sides of this, the monarch of 
mountains. By taking the route which we had selected 
we had the advantage, however, of enjoying the beau- 
tiful and picturesque scenery of the valley of the Rhone. 

From the town of Brigue on the side of the Simplon, 
where we begin to ascend, to Domo d'Ossola on the other 
side, it appears to be about ten leagues, and we were cer- 
tainly twelve hours in ascending and descending, a cold, 
uncomfortable ride on account of the snow on the summit. 



42 OVER SEAS 

This work of Napoleon is a complete triumph of art 
over Nature, and is a wonderful instance of human skill, 
if we consider the apparently insurmountable obstacles 
to be overcome. But is was accomplished by the all- 
poweiful genius of that master spirit, who crossed St. 
Bernard under even more difficult circumstances. Such 
a work of itself is enough to immortalize its projector. 

For our temporary discomfort on the Alps we were 
amply compensated on descending to the plains of Pied- 
mont, for here we found a more genial climate and much 
to interest us. Six days after leaving Geneva we arrived 
at Milan, where we parted company with our fellow- 
travelers, they being for Florence and we for Venice. 

We passed around the south bank of Lake Maggiore 
in approaching Milan, and by the statue of San Carlo 
Borromeo, the titular saint of Milan. It stands about 
three hundred feet above the lake, and, including the 
pedestal, is one hundred and twenty feet in height, and 
may be seen from a great distance. Standing on a level 
with the chin, the knee about the height of the nose, one 
may look through the eyes of the statue and obtain an 
extensive view of the surrounding country. From this 
the size of the statue may be fully appreciated. 

The residence of the Borromeo family was not far 
away, and the remains of San Cailo have been deposited 
in the Cathedral of Milan. They are enclosed in a sar- 
cophagus of crystal of costly workmanship — the sar- 
cophagus itself being placed in a sumptuous mausoleum 
about fifteen feet square, built under the grand altar. 

Immense sums have been expended upon the tombs , 



IN EARLY DAYS. 43 

forty-six thousand ounces of silver having been em- 
ployed in the bassi rilievi of the ceiling alone. The treas- 
ures of the sacristy of the Milan Cathedral are extremely 
valuable and are probably unsurpassed by those of Notre- 
Dame at Paris. 

By taking a cicerone at Milan we saw all that was re- 
markable in a very short time — the Cathedral, the new 
Triumphal Arch which terminates the Simplon route, 
the Gallery of Fine Arts, and the celebrated fresco of 
"The Last Supper," by Leonardo da Vinci. 

From Milan we proceeded to Venice, and were six 
days en route, passing through Verona and Padua. At 
Verona we saw the great Amphitheater, which is said to 
have been erected before the Christian era, and to be 
capable of holding 50,000 persons. 

One of the greatest curiosities of this city is the tomb 
of Juliet and the house of the Capulets. The former is 
preserved with good care, in a place which was formerly 
a convent. It is a rude sarcophagus of Verona marble, 
rectangular in form. It was so much mutilated by vis- 
itors who were desirous of carrying away some memorial 
of this classic stone that it has been removed from its 
former exposed situation in the convent garden to a place 
where it is safely exhibited to strangers. 

The Government, finding that such an object of 
curiosity was likely to prove a source of revenue, decreed 
that certain persons should be allowed to work this stone 
for articles of jewelry, and that none other should be im- 
posed upon purchasers. It may therefore be said to be 
worth its weight in silver. 



44 OVER SEAS 

At Venice we found more to engage our attention 
than at Milan. Numerous churches were to be seen, in- 
laid with costly marbles, and palaces adorned with the 
masterpieces of every school of painting. The ancient 
Church of San Marco and its bronze horses, the Ducal 
Palace, the Dungeon of the Inquisition, the Bridge of 
Sighs, the Rialto, etc., formed a round of visits which 
occupied our time most interestingly. On leaving Venice 
we passed through Ferrara and Bologna. At the former 
place we were shown the Public Library, in which are 
preserved the original manuscripts of Tasso's "Gerusa- 
lemme Liberata" and "Orlando Furioso," and Guarini's 
"Pastor Fido." 

From thence our journey across the Apennines to 
Florence was rather unpleasant, owing to the lateness of 
the season. The weather was fickle, and occasional falls 
of sleet, borne by the piercing mountain gusts which 
rushed through the passes between the hills, made us 
more uncomfortable than we had previously been on the 
whole route, and we hailed the prospect of a descent to 
the warm region of the plains near Florence with feelings 
of grateful relief. As we approached the valley of the 
Arno we were struck with the beauty and novelty of the 
scene. The sides of the mountains, or lofty hills Avhich 
surround the city, were clad to their summits with 
verdure (though late in November) of the evergreen olive, 
which here luxuriates in all its pride and strength. Ev- 
erywhere the eye rested on the noble groves which re- 
vested the valley as with a carpet, amidst which were 



IN EARLY DAYS. 45 

interspersed the white villas of the nobles and the cottages 
of the peasantry. 

There are few places more enchantingly beautiful 
than the external aspect of this city, which has par ex- 
cellence been called '7a helle Florence.^' 

It has always been the home and the nursery of the 
liberal arts and the seat of science and literature. Its 
palaces and its public edifices with their galleries of 
statues and paintings form a grand emporium of the 
choicest works of art, where the man of taste and the 
children of genius may reap inexhaustible pleasure, while 
the public institutions for the promotion of science form a 
grand Store -house. Florence, to view it from the Porta 
San Gallo, or from the mountains in that direction, has an 
appearance of great beauty, and indeed the same may be 
said of other views. So numerous are the villas and 
thickly populated the suburbs for several miles along the 
Arno that this population really constitutes a large portion 
of the city, and should so be considered. 

The following lines from Ariosto here apply : 

"A veder pie di tanta villa i colte, etc. 
Fosser racolti i tuvi polazzi sparsi 
Non ti sarian da pareggioni duo Roma." 

We arrived at the city gate at twilight and passed 
through the arch on which is a statue of one of the Medici 
family. Our voiture left us at the Lerno Bianco on the Via 
Ternia, and as our stay was to be limited, we proceeded 
to visit the most conspicuous and noteworthy objects. 

The first and most interesting resort for travelers is 



46 OVER SEAS 

the Museum Florentinium in the Palazzo Vecchio, erected 
in 1298, a description of whose treasures can be had in the 
voluminous works that have been published from time to 
time. The transient spectator must therefore content 
himself with observing those objects which are conse- 
crated as chefs-d'oeuvre and have become classic by the 
admiration of the whole world. Who that has heard of 
the Venus de Medici, the Venus of Titian, the Wrestler, 
the Faun, the Whetter, the Niobe, etc., and does not de- 
sire to see them before all else? They are to be found in 
the octagonal hall of the gallery known as the Tribune, 
where are some of the richest treasures of antiquity, and 
here the matchless Queen of Beauty holds her court. 

The room is always crowded with her devotees, who 
resort hither to see the Venus de Medici. She has always 
a well-attended levee and a circle of ardent admirers at 
her feet. 

Placed upon a pedestal raised about five feet from 
the floor stands this unrivaled model of feminine perfec- 
tion; the first object which arrests the attention on en- 
tering the Tribune. The anticipations respecting this 
statue, which enchants the world and has become so re- 
nowned as the standard of female beauty — at once the 
pride and boast of Florence — are apt to be exaggerated, 
and we look for so much excellence and perfection that 
disappointment is generally experienced on the first 
glance. We see before us, instead of the spotless purity 
of Parian marble and the beau ideal which we had con- 
ceived of the general effect, a dingy marble, which seems 
to have been steeped in the Virginia weed, and a form 



IN EARLY DAYS. 47 

which our fancy cannot consent to place before the living 
and lovely images of flesh and blood which are to be found 
among our own fair countrywomen. 

We look for life, and we start, "for soul is wanting 
there." We expect too much, in fact, at first, and it is 
only after contemplating for some time this work of 
the sculptor that we can appreciate it in all its symmetry 
and harmony of outline. 

It is when we are about to depart that we begin to 
regret that the artist's chisel has not been able to "cut 
breath," so that we must agree with the rest of the 
world; alors nous sommes d' accord avec le rests du monde 
quand il dit qu'elle merite Vepithete de ''Reine de Beaute," 
et qu'en ne vient a Florence que pour la voir, comme on 
n'allait jadis au Temple de Guide que pour y admirer la 
Venus de Praxitele. 

'Tis to Cleomenes, son of Appollodorus of Athens, 
that we are indebted for the sculpture of this noble 
specimen of Grecian work. It was found in Adrian's villa 
near Rome and transported to Florence about the year 
1680, at the same time with the celebrated Remouleur 
or Whetter. 

The Venus was broken in thirteen different places; 
viz., across the neck, the body, the thighs, above the legs, 
and above the feet. The restorations, however, are very 
perfect, and she now appears in nearly all her native sym- 
metry. Her height is four feet, eleven inches, and four 
lines. Turning from this attractive object, we see her sur- 
rounded by a circle of very beautiful antiques, which only 
serve to show her preeminence. 



48 OVER SEAS 

Next in order of arrangement in the Tribune is the 
Whetter or Grinder, which is supposed to represent "a 
slave overhearing the conspiracy of CatiHne," since he 
appears in a Ustening attitude; but the most probable 
conjecture is that it is intended to represent the "Scythian 
whom Apollo required to flay Marsyas." 

The various names which have been applied to this 
statue depend upon the numerous conjectures as to the 
design; thus he is called the Rotateur, le Remouleru 
(I'Arruotino). 

His attitude is unique, half kneeling, half sitting, and 
called by the French accroupi. The opinion of Winck- 
elmann that he was the executioner of Marsyas is in a 
great measure corroborated by several similar figures on 
ancient medallions and has-reliefs. There is great force, 
energy, and truth in the execution of this work, which is 
considered a production of the Grecian chisel, and the 
restorations of Michael Angelo have done ample justice to 
the subject. I had seen and before admired a copy of 
this work done in bronze in the gardens of the Tuileries. 

The Wrestlers is a well-conceived and finely-executed 
group, possessing many of the merits for which the Lao- 
coon is justly esteemed; the tension of the muscles, the 
swelling veins, and the almost superhuman strength dis- 
played in the moment of extraordinary exertion of the last 
struggle, which is to decide the victory, are well and 
happily delineated. 

The expressions of the countenances are faithfully 
indicative of the triumphant animation which the victor 
is supposed to feel and the spite and convulsive rage of the 



IN EARLY DAYS. 49 

vanquished. The anatomy is said to be very well at- 
tended to. 

The Faun is another antique which is considered a 
masterpiece, and has been attributed, on account of its 
excellence, to the chisel of Praxiteles. He is playing upon 
the cymbals, and his right foot rests upon a scabellum, 
which is generally thought to represent a bird-whistle. 
His phiz is So merry and jocund, and there breathes around 
him such a gaiety and merriment, that we can hardly 
repress our own mirth and desire to caper with him. 

In order to bring into view and compare at the 
same time the chefs-d'oeuvre of painting and sculpture, the 
paintings of Titian's Venus are placed directly over the 
Medici. One represents Venus and Love, and the other, 
which is thought the rival of the Medici, represents a re- 
cumbent figure holding a bouquet of flowers, while two 
ugly old women are seen in the background to give relief 
to her youthful beauty. She is perfectly nude, and re- 
clines on a couch with a languid and voluptuous air, 
which heightens her incomparable beauty. This is per- 
haps one of the finest specimens of that richness and per- 
fection of coloring for which Titian has obtained, de- 
servedly, an immortal celebrity. 

One of Michael Angelo's paintings next demands our 
admiration, not perhaps for its intrinsic merit so much as 
for being a production of that great genius. It represents 
the Virgin and Child, and is said to be one of his best 
easel pictures. 

The Hall of the Tribune contains several other mas- 



50 OVER SEAS 

terpieces of celebrated artists, among which is Raphael's 
St. John the Baptist. 

In the Cabinet of Bronzes is the Mercury of John of 
Bologna. This is a rare treat for the amateur, and the 
conception is full of the spirit and leghrete which we would 
ascribe to the messenger of the gods. It is the herald 
Mercury himself, "now lighted on a heaven-kissing hill," 
except that in lieu of this heaven -kissing hill we may 
rather be disposed to give the artist credit for his more 
poetical thought of wafting him up on the breath of a 
zephyr. Hermes himself could hardly assume a more 
aerial and graceful posture — he seems to tread the air and 
fly at the same time. 

With one foot only he deigns unconsciously to alight 
on earth, while his thought and look and indication are 
all heavenward — so free, so light, so agile, and so buoyant 
does he appear. In his left hand he holds the caduceus 
and with the right hand follows his glance heavenward, 
as if to impress the world with the divinity of his mission. 

The Hall of Niobe. In this is depicted, with all the 
sublimity, majesty, and chaste simplicity of the Grecian 
school, the affecting tragedy of the fate of Niob6^ and her 
children. The figures are arranged around the hall, but 
without that grouping which is necessary to their proper 
and natural effect. They are about sixteen in number, 
and represent the various attitudes in which they expired 
under the relentless cruelty of the children of Latona. 

The figure of Niobe herself is decidedly tragic, and 
expresses all the deep pathos of maternal agony and the 
impotence of despair at her inability to save her devoted 



IN EARLY DAYS. 51 

offspring. In her countenance we read the most thrilling 
anguish, the most agonizing grief, and the most forlorn 
despair; in every Hneament the very marble speaks and 
extorts our sympathetic feeling. 

Her youngest child clings to her for refuge, while she 
seems endeavoring to envelope it in her drapery — and the 
whole group is admirably conceived by the artist. 

It is said that they were all originally designed for 
the tympanum of a Grecian temple* ; if so, there could not 
be a more beautiful design. 

Canova's Venus at the Palazzo Pitti I unluckily did 
not see. It is said to be excellent, and by some is admired 
more than that of the Medici. She is represented as 
coming out of the bath and drawing with graceful timidity 
around her the drapery which she presses to her bosom. 

The Chapel of the Medicean family is one of the most 
interesting places in Florence, and contains truly superb 
mausoleums of some of the first Grand Dukes of Tuscany. 
It adjoins the Ambrosian Church of San Lorenzo. 

Previous to entering the former you pass out of the 
church by a side door into what is called the Capella 
dei depositi, designed by Michael Angelo, and adorned 
with some of his unfinished statues. 

Here are four of these — Lorenzo, Duke d'Urbano, on 
the left hand, the Duke of Nemours on the right, and two 
allegorical figures, representing Morning and Evening, 
reposing on sepulchers. 

The altar is also the work of Michael Angelo. 



*To Apollo or Diana. 



52 OVER SEAS 

Passing into the gorgeous Chapel of the Medici, we 
see the magnificent statues of Ferdinand I. and Cosmo II. 
on mausoleums, revested with gems and the most precious 
marbles, such as the lapis lazuli, the antique breccia, the 
jasper, and African marbles. 

In contrast with these, we find in the church a plain 
flag-stone, from whose half-defaced inscription we de- 
cipher the simple epitaph, ''Pater PatricE," which contains 
a more eloquent eulogium than all the monuments we 
have yet seen . ' * Who was the Father of his country ? " we 
ask. There was but one who was honored with this noble 
appellation, Cosmo de' Medici — "Cosmo de' Medici" will 
burst with spontaneous gratitude from the lips of every 
Florentine in reply to this question. In treading upon 
this humble grave, which can scarcely be distinguished 
from the rest of the numerous flag-stones inscribed around 
it — it being so plain and unpretending — we cannot help 
drawing a parallel between him and the Father of our 
country, as regards their public services and their virtues ; 
their memory ahke is placed upon tablets more durable 
than perennial brass or marble and engraved on the hearts 
of their countrymen . 

I had read an inscription mentioned in Roscoe's 
"Life of Lorenzo de Medici" (Vol. III., page 38), and to- 
day experienced great satisfaction and pleasure in reading 
it in the original, engraved on a marble tablet in the 
courtyard of the Library Mediceo Laurentino : 

" ^dos cernis f ama celeberrimas. 
Pulcherrimas atque magnificas. 
A Cosmo Medico pater patriae Mocheloteo 
Architecto erectas A. S. plus minus cit. CCCXXX, etc" 



IN EARLY DAYS. 53 

The Church of Santa Croce, in the Piazza Santa Cro- 
ce, contains many interesting monuments, both ancient 
and modem; it was built 530 years ago. The exterior is 
rough, unfinished, and unpromising, and the interior arch- 
itecture is none of the best. 

On the right hand as we enter is the tomb of that son 
of Genius, Michael Angelo; Aretino said, "The world has 
had many monarchs, but only one Michael Angelo." His 
talents were indeed diversified, being a sculptor, an archi- 
tect, a poet, and a painter, all in one. 

I felt the same reverence in contemplating his mau- 
soleum as I afterward did in viewing that of Raphael, 
though it was mingled with more admiration on account 
of the beauty of the sculptural design which is here dis- 
played — the tomb of Raphael being only designated by a 
plain marble slab in the wall of the Pantheon. 

Beyond Michael Angelo 's tomb is that of Alfieri de 
Asti, from Canova's chisel. The immortality which this 
celebrated poet and tragic author has gained by his works 
richly merits being commemorated by such a hand. 

Still farther on is the tomb of Nicholas Machiavelli, 
whose notoriety as a politician and historian has made his 
name a proverb. The next is that of Lanzi; the next, of 
Leonardo Bruni; the next, of Nordini, a celebrated musi- 
cian ; next, the mathematician Fantoni. 

On the opposite side of the church is a modem crucifix 
made by Donatello, to which the attention of strangers is 
invited on account of its (said) excellence. 

Opposite to Michael Angelo 's tomb is that of the 
persecuted Galileo. 



54 OVER SEAS 

The only instance of strict military discipline that I 
saw was in leaving the Palazzo Vecchio. In going out we 
enter the grand square of vSanta Croce, in which are sev- 
eral attractive objects. The bronze equestrian statue of 
Cosmo de' Medici {pere de la patrie), by John de Bologna, 
nearly in the middle of the square, first arrested my at- 
tention. The horse is spirited and the pose of the rider 
full of benign majesty. The Palazzo Vecchio was erected 
in 1298, on the site of the old residence of the Uberti 
family, which was destroyed by the Guelphs. On each 
side of the door are two statues, one of Hercules and 
Cacus and the other Michael Angelo's David. 

Adjoining the Palazzo Vecchio, in the square of the 
Grand Duke's, is the Loggia de Lanzi, a kind of arcade for 
shelter and convenience on pubhc occasion, in which are 
several superb statues in bronze and marble, the most re- 
markable of which is the bronze group of Perseus, by Ben- 
venuto Cellini, holding in his hand the bleeding head of 
Medusa . This figure struck me as being exceedingly beau- 
tiful and symmetrical and as possessing the same beauty 
of form which I have before extolled in John de Bologna's 
Hermes, though this is comparatively tame, representing 
Perseus in the repose and conscious security of victory. 

The original marble group of the Rape of the Sabines 
is here, executed by John de Bologna, a copy of which I 
had seen in the Tuileries at Paris. 

The colossal statue of Neptune in the fountain of this 
Piazza Granduca, surrounded by Tritons and sea-horses, 
is an excellent design. 

I took pleasure in promenading the Lungamo, on the 



IN EARLY DAYS. 55 

street which runs along the Amo, protected on one side by 
a parapet wall about breast height and lined on the other 
side with the handsomest palaces in the city. 

My walks were often extended in the various squares 
containing many new objects of art. From the Lungamo 
near my lodgings there was a fine view of three or four 
bridges which cross the river. The Ponte Vecchio, 485 
years old, has been called Prefice, owing to its being lined 
with stalls of jewelers on each side, which gives it on the 
interior the appearance of the Rialto. 

Near the end of this bridge is a very fine group of 
Hercules killing the Centaur, by John de Bologna. 

The Ponte Santissima Trinita is a most graceful piece 
of architecture, crossing the river with three arches. The 
current is very rapid, but, notwithstanding this, reflects 
with fidelity at times the noble arches of the bridges, the 
beautiful palaces, and the animated spectacle which is 
ever passing on the Lungarno. 

One of the most stupendous buildings in Florence is 
the Cathedral, which was founded in" 1298. I neither ad- 
mired its proportions nor the style of its decorations 
sufficiently to interest myself in describing them. The 
only memoranda I made was : First, the Meridian, called 
by Lelande the greatest astronomical instrument in the 
world (the gnomon of which is 2 77 J French feet high); 
second, the group by Michael Angelo, representing Joseph 
holding our Saviour in his arms after being taken from the 
cross, which is exquisitely beautiful ; and lastly, the grand 
altar, which commemorates an interesting event, men- 



56 OVER SEAS 

tioned in Roscoe's "Life of Lorenzo the Magnificent."* 

Julian de' Medici was murdered in public before this 
altar during the celebration of mass in 1478 by his rival 
(Francesco Pazzi) in the affections of Camilla CaffarelH, 
and near this is the sacristy in which Lorenzo took refuge. 
We have seen the massive bronze doors which were inter- 
posed between him and the conspirators. I must not 
omit to say that the only memorial of the illustrious poet 
Dante which Florence has of her exiled and persecuted 
son is a time-worn and worm-eaten picture of him painted 
on wood, while his still exiled remains sleep in the bosom 
of Ravenna, which is proud and tenacious of having of- 
fered him an asylum. 

One of the bronze doors of the Baptistery is so beau- 
tifully ornamented with bassi rilievi that Michael Angelo 
is said to have proclaimed them "worthy to be the gates 
of Paradise." These reliefs represent the Old and New 
Testament history. 

The two porph)Ty columns, taken formerly from the 
Pisan gates, were presented to the Florentines by the in- 
habitants of Pisa — as trophies — for their valor. Iron 
chains are attached to them for some reason. 

We left Florence early in November for Rome, and I 
could not but part with regret from a place where in so 
short a time I had seen so much and had enjoyed the 
richest treat and the rarest feast of intellectual gratifica- 
tion I have ever known. 

Beautiful Florence! How truly called "the Athens 

*Vol. I., p. 246. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 57 

of Italy" ! "The Cradle of the Three Graces of the Fine 
Arts," where the taste and genius of the world have been 
improved and fostered. On leaving her walls I could not 
help casting a lingering look at the receding valley in 
which she lay embosomed. Everything was replete with 
interest. The classic Arno flowing at her feet, and the 
white snowy peaks of the Apennines (in the golden light 
of the morning) seemed to crown her with a tiara of glory. 
The sad umbered hue of the olive, the dark cypress, and 
hanging vineyards still were green and had not assumed 
as yet "the green and yellow melancholy" of the au- 
tumnal leaf so pecuhar to the American forests. The 
white villas brightened as the rays of the sun rapidly de- 
scended from the mountains to the valley, and gave an 
enchantment to the whole scene. 

Arriving at Siena, we remained for some time to visit 
the Duomo and a fountain celebrated by Dante in his 
"Inferno." 

In a chapel of the Duomo we were shown a mutilated 
group in white marble of the Three Graces, which was 
found under the church. 

No one knows by whom it was made, nor is it im- 
portant to know, since their intrinsic merit would, in my 
estimation, hardly save the author from oblivion. 

Siena stands on an eminence rather rough of access, 
which is Said to be the crater of an extinguished volcano, 
and on this account the streets are irregular, narrow, and 
gloomy. Everywhere we see the Wolf and the Twins. 

The Sienites claim descent from Rome. Siena boasts 
of the purest dialect of all Italy, and the purity of the 



58 OVER SEAS 

language in Tuscany has given rise to the proverb of 
''Lingua Toscana in brocca Romana." 

In the Duomo, before mentioned, there is a mosaic 
pavement which was not completed until four hundred 
years after it was commenced. The pulpit of this church 
is beautifully wrought in basso rilievo. In the chapel are 
some of Raphael's paintings in his first style when he was 
quite young. They are, on that account, very indifferent. 

On leaving Siena we pursued our journey toward 
Rome, through a most sterile and volcanic country. 
Radicofani is a village built on a small and almost inac- 
cessible eminence on the left of the road near the frontier 
of Tuscany and the Ktats de TBglise. Near the place is the 
dogana or custom-house of the Grand Duke, and farther 
on, at Ponte Centino, is that of the Pontiff. At these cus- 
tom-houses travelers are always obliged to undergo an in- 
spection of their baggage, provided they do not bribe the 
leeches that prey upon their purses. These examinations 
are made frequently in passing from one little province 
of Italy to another, and the demands and exactions upon 
the passports render traveling in this country a great 
annoyance. 

From two to five francs is the usual demand, and they 
prefer taking even the smallest sum to the trouble of 
opening and inspecting baggage, so that, notwithstand- 
ing their affected strictness contraband articles may, by 
sufficient bribes, be passed throughout the whole kingdom 
unmolested. 

Knowing, however, their usual indolence and aversion 
to doing their duty, and having nothing seizable or ob- 



IN EARLY DAYS. 59 

jectionable in our trunks, we readily gave up our keys 
whenever they were demanded, much to their disap- 
pointment, as they expected we would be guilty of the 
common folly of most EngHshmen, so that our trunks 
were not molested, on account of the laziness of these 
officials. 

The country around Radicofani is volcanic and pre- 
sents a melancholy picture of sterility. It seems as 
though the bowels of earth had been disgorged for ages 
by a series of convulsions, and that the mold that might 
once have covered it had been buried many fathoms 
beneath. 

The town of Agua Pendente, so called from its over- 
hanging a torrent, is built on the side of a mountain in a 
position which is truly picturesque. 

We alighted from our voiture, whose snail's pace ill 
agreed with our impatience of delay and the keenness of 
our appetites. As our vetturino toiled up the winding 
mountain road we walked ahead and enjoyed the exhil- 
arating breath of the morning and the beauty of the 
scenery, the matin song of the birds, the shrill whistle of 
the goatherd mingling with that with which our vet- 
turino was cheering his laggard beasts. The bleating of 
the goats as they sported along the perilous cliffs above 
us or browsed among the shrubs which grew upon the 
ruined walls overhanging the torrent, all conspired to 
lend animation to the scene. Agua Pendente, however, 
disappointed so soon as we passed within its gates — a 
sorry, squalid race inhabited a still more squalid set of 



6o OVER SEAS 

buildings, intended for a town and not worth the walls 
built for their protection. 

Such is Agua Pendente, the (externally) picturesque. 
But, as I dislike to dwell upon any but pleasing images, 
we will proceed on toward the Queen of Cities — to what 
was once Rome. 

We stopped at St. lyorenzo Nuovo to dine. Here we 
had a fine and extensive view of Lake Bolsena — a beau- 
tiful sheet of water, which is supposed to occupy the 
crater of an extinguished volcano, or ''vesuvio," as the 
natives term it. This place contained nothing attractive 
but dinner and the ruins of an old castle, which we took 
by way of dessert ; and in order to assist in forgetfulness 
of that indifferent meal we amused ourselves in climbing 
its dilapidated and ivy-grown walls. This was the first 
ruin in which I had been and it gave me a singular kind of 
dehght, such as I have in boyhood felt, to climb with risk 
to its turrets, to survey the broad expanse of the blue lake 
beneath my feet, and to penetrate in the labyrinths and 
quondam stronghold of this once proud castle, which 
formerly looked down with a protecting air upon the 
little village which it commanded. 

From thence we could see two islands of tufo, 
which Pliny tells us were floating in his time ; however, 
they seemed long since to have given up their erratic 
propensities. 

Not far beyond is the town of Bolsena, which is sup- 
posed to take its name from the conception of the word 
"Volsinium," the capital of the ancient States of Ktruria. 
Here are many antiquities, such as fragments of Cor- 



IN EARLY DAYS. 6i 

inthinian columns and the beautiful capitals, altars, im- 
ages, and other remains, which we only had about ten 
minutes' time to examine. It is said that the Romans 
when they took this city carried away with them two 
thousand statues. 

The basaltic columns not far from this place are 
usually pointed out to travelers. 

Toward evening we reached a little osteria just 
without the walls of Montefiascone, which possessed no 
very inviting exterior except the sign with the words 
''est, est,'' doubled most illegibly upon it. On these words 
"hangs a tale," which is told for the edification of every 
traveler and as a bait for the custom of the inn. 

The story is that an old German prelate who was 
travehng through Italy was accustomed to send his serv- 
ant on ahead as an avant-courier to ascertain which would 
be the best resting-place, and, being a hon vivant and a 
lover of good wine, he directed his servant to inscribe on 
the city gates "est" ("there is") whenever the wine was 
recommendable. 

The servant on arriving at Montefiascone found the 
wine so uncommonly delicious that he wrote ''est, est." 
The prelate, it is said, stayed there three days and drank 
Muscat till he died of the surfeit. They show his tomb 
hard by the osteria, on which his lamenting and faithful 
servant has inscribed this epitaph: 

"Est, est, est — propter minimum est 
Meus dominus mortuus est." 

While our supper was preparing my companion and 



62 OVER SEAS 

myself went to visit the city. The sun had just sunk into 
the Mediterranean and left a parting glory in the west, 
which illuminated the somber walls and the bleak rocky 
summit of the mountains. I looked in the direction 
where his reflected rays still Hngered in a thousand 
chameleon hues among the beautiful clouds of an Italian 
sky, and for a moment was transported back to the 
Western Continent and to my native hills, where he was 
pouring out his noontide rays on the path of all those with 
whom my affections were at that hour. 

As I turned the abrupt angle of the wall in order to 
pass through the gate of the town such reveries were soon 
interrupted by entering the dark, narrow street, be- 
hind whose buildings the light was effectually excluded, 
and my attention was soon engaged in considering the 
strange and peculiar costume and the swarthy and squalid 
countenances of the inhabitants of Montefiascone. 

As we passed up the filthy narrow lane or main street 
many were the pictures of destitution, mendicity, and ab- 
ject misery that presented themselves in every direction. 
, The whisper of ''Ecco! due forestierif" was heard very 
frequently and brought many women from their avoca- 
tions and children from their sports to gaze at the forestieri 
as they passed. The former gave us a sidelong glance of 
curiosity and indifference. At the same time, as they 
drew back the heavy and disheveled masses of coarse 
black hair from their foreheads they bore no little re- 
semblance to our female aborigines; while the uncouth 
and unwashed little urchins peered at us through the 
paneless windows in unqualified surprise at the singularity 



IN EARLY DAYS. 63 

of English faces and dress. The men stood in groups at 
the corners of the streets or assembled before the doors of 
the gloomy Gothic churches with their peaked hats, or 
cappelli, slouched over their brows, just concealing the 
quick, suspicious glance of the dark Italian eye, with arms 
folded beneath the mantello, which was carelessly but 
gracefully flung over the left shoulder, and which even 
the meanest Italian always wears with a grace peculiar 
to himself. 

The only buildings I remarked were the cathedral, 
the ruins of an old deserted castle, and the remains of 
some mutilated statues belonging to an old villa. 

In passing through these isolated provincial towns 
we are struck with the evident degeneracy of every an- 
imate and inanimate thing which presents itself, and their 
adhesion to long-established usages, whether of customs 
in dress, habits, architecture, or religion. The changes 
and innovations of the world around them, even for a 
few miles, seem to have no influence whatever with them, 
and on that account I have no doubt we were equally sin- 
gular in appearance to them as they were to us. 

The next day's journey brought us to Viterbo, and 
on leaving that place for Ponciglione we saw for the first 
time — I think it was on Lake Vico in descending a 
mountain — the cupola of St. Peter's. 

Our vetturino, pointing it out to us, observed that 
we were yet forty miles distant. It was the first and only 
gUmpse we had of Rome that day, and so distant was it 
that it could scarcely be discerned in the purple horizon. 

H: 4: H: * * ^ 



64 OVER SEAS 

The last day of our pilgrimage. We started early in 
the morning to pass over the most desolate part of our 
journey on the deserted Campagna di Roma, and all the 
travelers had been warned of the danger of encountering 
banditti on this lonely road. The three voitures, con- 
taining about twelve persons, it was mutually agreed 
should go in company. 

These apprehensions are not unfounded, since the 
greatest facihties are offered on the Campagna for com- 
mitting the darkest deeds with impunity, and for that 
reason we saw several patrols of the Pope's soldiers on the 
way before daylight. 

On descending a hill where the road was very narrow, 
with a precipice and marsh on one side and high rocks 
crowned with dark pines on the other, the vetturino gave 
us reason to expect some adventure, though groundless. 

A shrill, piercing whistle was heard just in advance 
of us. The driver incontinently checked his horses, as 
if instinctively knowing the accustomed signal of these 
midnight prowlers. 

We looked out of the carriage to see if any accident 
had happened, and demanded in our surprise, "Che 
cosa e9" to which he only replied by pointing to the side 
of the road, where we saw in the uncertain light of the 
gray morning several bodies, some moving and others 
lying beneath the dark shadow of the hedge which sep- 
arated us from the marsh. 

We were at a loss to guess what they were, and 
waited a reasonable time for the anticipated attack. We 
were, however, soon undeceived by a figure which started 



IN EARLY DAYS. 65 

up from the ground where he had been sitting and by 
another loud whistle, proving himself to be an inof- 
fensive swineherd, who had brought out his noisy charge 
to regale them upon the rank, luxuriant grass which grew 
by the roadside. 

In this manner we were agreeably disappointed in 
our expected adventure, and felt Hghter in heart, as we 
were left heavier in purse. 

On approaching Rome on the right of the Via Cassio, 
before it meets the Flaminian Way, we saw the remains of 
an old marble tomb, which our driver told us was that of 
Nero; bixt this is doubtful, though it is the currently 
received opinion. 

I shall never forget the inspiring sensation of ap- 
proaching Rome, the Ultima Thule of my wishes. When 
but a child I had an ardent desire to see this quondam 
mistress of the world — this Niobe of nations, ** childless 
and crownless in her voiceless woe," and now that I was 
just about entering her portals and about to tread on 
ground that had so long been hallowed in imagination, 
and every foot of whose soil has become classic by its 
association with the renowned of antiquity, I could not 
help feeling a glow of supernatural enthusiasm ; my soul 
was on the wing, and I felt already as if I were imbued 
with the spirit of past ages. 

We were then passing over ground that had been trod- 
den by Roman conquerors with their victorious legions. 
We saw the sites of their luxurious villas and retreats, 
of which scarcely any trace was left. We saw the Tiber 
rolling along, *'arva inter opima virum," as it had done for 



66 OVER SEAS 

ages — meandering among the scattered ruins of the de- 
serted Campagna and washing the bases of the remnants 
of imperial Rome, on which the Hght modem architecture 
of pontifical Rome now rose in solemn mockery of its 
pristine splendor. Were I to expatiate upon all the 
varied feelings caused by each interesting object as they 
passed in review, I should undertake a task equally tire- 
some to myself as to the patience of others. 

We crossed the Tiber at Ponte Molle, where Con- 
stantine the Great overthrew Maxentius, and, crossing the 
old Campus Martins, entered the city by the ancient Porta 
Flaminia, now called the Porta del Popolo, on the left- 
hand side of the Hortulorum or Pincian Hill. 

This part of the city is the most modem and beau- 
tiful, and its vicinity is built up with palaces and splendid 
hotels in the Enghsh style, and may properly be caUed 
the English quarter. In the center of the square is an 
Egyptian obehsk found in the circus, around which were 
placed, during our stay at Rome, four Egyptian lions re- 
cumbent, of pure white marble, which spout as many 
fountains of water in a marble reservoir. 

Proceeding through the grand street (the Corso) to- 
ward the custom-house, we were condemned to undergo 
a thorough search of our baggage. 

This custom-house was once the Temple of Marcus 
Aurelius, and displays the splendid entablature, which 
rests on the shattered capitals and shafts of eleven Cor- 
inthian pillars, which are seen half built into a wall or 
facade of modem structure. 



IN EARLY DAYS. &7 

From thence, having satisfied the inquisitorial ra- 
pacity of the leeches of his Holiness, we were set down 
without further molestation at the hotel, near the Piazza 
di Spagna, which, for a temporary residence, we found 
eligible and central. 



68 OVER SEAS 



VII. 

RoM^, November, 1828. 

One of the first places which attracts the traveler 
when he arrives in Rome is that which in modem times 
is associated or identified with its reHgious or political 
character, as the rock on which Rome is now built — the 
Church of St. Peter — presents as conspicuous an aspect 
in its moral as in its natural horizon. This is the head-: 
quarters of Catholicism and the regal throne of the Pope, 
whence issue the plenary indulgences of heaven, and 
thunders of anathema which have made the thrones of 
earth tremble to their base. Go to St. Peter's if you wish 
to see all the magnificence and concentration of the Roman 
CathoUc Church. Kneel before the shrine which they 
tell you contains the ashes of the saint himself, 01, if you 
wish to be edified to the utmost with CathoHcism, kiss 
the toe of Leo X. himself. 

For my own part, I could not have the reverence for 
the Pantheon (one of the abodes of the gods) now that its 
niches are filled by the effigies of modem date and adomed 
by meretricious omaments and filigree work. 

But the Temple of St. Peter is decidedly one of the 
''world's wonderments," and is said to be superior to the 
Temple of Solomon itself. (From the view I have seen of 
that temple I think this architecture more beautiful and 
chaste.) In advancing toward St. Peter's we cannot 



IN EARLY DAYS. 69 

judge of its stupendousness, having no buildings, as has 
St. Paul's, around it with which it may be compared. 

It stands in such an extensive area that its noble 
fagade, which only is seen, is dwindled into the apparent 
size of an ordinary church, and on that account you should 
enter it to be properly impressed with its vastness and 
grandeur.* Two semi-circular colonnades on each wing 
enclose a spacious elliptical arcade of several acres (if I 
judge aright by the deceptive eye) and sweep around, in 
columns of four deep and sixty feet in height, forming a 
noble amphitheater, in the center of which is an Egyp- 
tian obelisk, flanked by two beautiful fountains. 

This structure has been much criticised — but that of 
course. I leave its faults to those caviling dilettanti, 
especially the English , who think Sir Christopher Wren a 
nonpareil and Michael Angelo a mere pretender. 

Enter the portico, and judge for yourself of the fine 
perspective and the effect of the equestrian statues of 
Charlemagne and Const antine the Great. 

As I have not the talent of a cicerone, I would leave 
the treasures of the church and those of the thousand 
halls of the Vatican to those ponderous tomes, which 
alone can do any justice to that which almost beggars de- 
scription. If in the course of my memoranda I should 
touch upon any of them, it will be only those which I 
would not 01 could not forget. 



*" Enter: its grandeur overwhelms thee not; 
And why? it is not lessened; 
But thy mind, expanded by the genius of the spot, 
Has grown colossal." — Byron, 



70 OVER SEAS 

The taste of the best artists and the talent of several 
centuries have been la\dshed mth unsparing hand upon 
the ornaments and construction of this church. 

It is said to be ''decked in the various splendor which 
the labor of ages, the wealth of kingdoms, the spoils of 
ancient times, and the proudest inventions of modem 
times have combined to furnish." All this is true, and 
the arrangement of these is such as to satisfy the most 
fastidious taste of those who have a correct conception of 
the magnificent and the grand. 

There is Httle of that trifling detail, that meretricious 
display, that fretwork of labored sculpture, or any of that 
gloomy and somber imposition of Gothic work which gen- 
erally characterizes Catholic churches. This imposes not 
upon the superstitious fears, but rather elevates the soul 
in admiration by its nobleness, its vastness, and mag- 
nificence. What it wants in the somber and melancholy 
character which commands a reHgious awe is made up 
by the impressive grandeur of everything in this stu- 
pendous edifice, where all is made to harmonize with 
grace, elegance, and refinement. 

Many find fault vnth. this as unsuited to the solemnity 
of worship, but if such love darkness better than hght, 
they will find abundance of dark nooks in every quarter 
of this city, where they may pursue their devotions be- 
fore the numerous shrines which were erected for the 
especial benefit of the devotees. 

Every part of St. Peter's is intended to be on the 
same proportionate scale of magnificence, and the great 



IN EARLY DAYS. 71 

dome which forms the center of the Latin cross is within 
two feet of the diameter of the colossal Pantheon. 

Michael Angelo, when he designed it, is known to 
have had this in mind, and said that he intended to erect 
a Pantheon in the clouds. This he has literally done. 
The costly mosaics which embellish the naves of this 
church are copied from some of the chefs-d'oeuvres of 
Raphael, and have been the labor of years. 



72 OVER SEAS 



VIII. 

ROMK, December 17, 1828. 

I HAVE just been to the Church of St. Peter to witness 
the ceremony of the appointment of cardinals by the Pope. 
Four successive nights, previous to the appointed day, the 
whole city was illuminated. The numerous palaces and 
churches were most conspicuous in the general blaze. 
The former showed to great advantage on account of their 
magnificent architecture. Their colonnades, balustrades, 
and large windows, Hghted with variegated lamps, had 
a most magnificent and enchanting splendor. The 
churches also displayed hterally a glorious appearance, 
the colonnades, the fretwork, etc., resembUng one sheet 
of fire, and the steeples and cupolas were studded with 
lamps to their very summit. 

Few, I think, can equal the Romans in such exhibi- 
tions. They have a great deal of taste in this respect 
from habit, and so much national pride that the merest 
beggar would starve himself for days to honor the Virgin 
with candles on such occasions. 

In front of the palaces of each of the newly-elected 
cardinals bands of music were playing each night, and 
crowds of citizens were there assembled or passing to and 
fro to visit each of their palaces in turn. The excitement 
of these scenes is very great, and to witness them we 
would conclude that the Romans were the happiest people 



IN EARLY DAYS. 73 

on earth. One of the cardinals, I understand, expended 
^24,000. 

I am told that the Carnival surpasses all this, and am 
extremely desirous to remain here until it takes place, but 
shall be prevented, as it occurs in the last week in Feb- 
ruary, at which time I must be in Naples. 

When the ceremony was performed a great concourse 
assembled at St. Peter's, or rather in one of the chapels 
of the Vatican adjoining. The persons admitted were 
chiefly foreigners, who have usually more curiosity for 
these things than have the citizens. 

The cardinals, about thirty in number, were seated 
on each side of the avenue to the pontifical throne, habit- 
ed in white robes, with their venerable gray heads sur- 
mounted by small red cardinals' hats, presenting a singular 
and imposing effect. 

After waiting for some time, the Pope entered by a 
side door of the chapel, ascended his throne, and, gra- 
ciously extending his hand by way of benediction, seated 
himself, and prepared to receive the homage which was 
paid to him. Each of the cardinals, in the order of 
rank, ascended the steps of the throne, knelt, and kissed 
the robe which covered his hand, bowed to his confreres, 
and retired perfectly self-complacent after this ceremony. 

My position gave me an excellent opportunity of 
perusing the features of the Santissimo Padre. After the 
preamble was read, the novices were introduced. Each 
one knelt successively and kissed the foot of the Pope, 
and having been covered for a few moments with a black 
mantle in the kneeling position, a certain form of service 



74 OVER SEAS 

was read over them by his Holiness, and they were then 
received into his indulgent embrace, and in this manner 
the ceremony was ended. 

The best part of the spectacle, perhaps, for those who 
are fond of pageantry, was the show of magnificent 
equipages that were paraded on this occasion. 

Nothing could well be superior to those of the Pope 
and the cardinal princes. The gilding of their carriages 
and the trappings of their beautiful horses resembled the 
richness of massive gold, and a crowd of servants and 
pursuivants in costly liveries made altogether a most 
brilliant affair. On Christmas there was a further cer- 
emony in honor of our Saviour's birth, at the Chiesa Santa 
Maria Maggiore, on which occasion they claim to show the 
cradle in which He was nui'Sed and the manger in which 
He was bom. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 75 



IX. 

Rome, November 26, 1828. 

I CALLED to-day on Torlonia, Duke of Bracciano, who 
is my banker, and delivered nay letters of credit, and have 
just received an invitation to their soiree to-morrow 
evening: "The Duke and Duchess of Bracciano request 
the honor of your company to-morrow evening at their 
palace." This sounds strangely to my American ear. 
However, I will go, if it be only to see something of 
ItaUan society. 



76 OVER SEAS 



X. 

RoM^, January lo, 1829. 

A FEW evenings since we received an invitation to a 
party at the Gabrielli Palace, where it was expected the 
celebrated singer David would be, and also the Countess 
GuiccioU, the mistress of Lord Byron. 

The Princess Gabrielli is a daughter of Lucien Bona- 
parte. The expectation of hearing David attracted a 
crowd of the Enghsh nobihty, but they were disap- 
pointed. The Countess GuiccioU is not handsome. She 
may have been pretty in her younger days. I did not 
seek an introduction, though my friend did so, and was 
much pleased with her conversation and manners. 

Last Sunday evening a splendid concert was given 
at the palace of II Marchese by the dilettanti; the piece 
was "Semiramide," and full justice was done to Rossini 
by a choir of about forty singers and as many musicians. 
Without any adventitious scenery or performance, the 
effect was very fine. 

We dined with our BngHsh friend Darwin yesterday, 
in company with about fourteen young BngUsh gentle- 
men, and I was pleased to find so much good feeling man- 
ifested by them toward our country. They were inquis- 
itive in their questions respecting it, and frequently re- 
marked how Httle the BngHsh knew of our institutions. 
At present there are many Americans in Rome, but, not 



IN EARLY DAYS. 77 

being so numerous as the English, their society is more 
sought by the ItaHans. 

I have taken pleasure among other amusements of 
visiting the different kinds of society at this place. The 
parties to which I have before referred presented a mixture 
of all national characters of this continent. But a party 
I lately attended at the Signore Fivorini's displayed Ital- 
ian manners more conspicuously — that is to say, it was 
a strange mixture of the beautiful with the ridiculous 
and luxury with discomfort. 

The two daughters have attained wonderful per- 
fection in music and drawing, so much so that they are 
unrivaled by any one in miniature painting and on the 
piano. The miniatures of the eldest are the best and 
rarest specimens of the kind I have ever seen, and the 
performances of the youngest signorina surpass any music 
I have heard. Yet, unfortunately, they are too homely 
to excite admiration in any other respect. 

On going to the house we met the padrone^ their 
father, who ushered us up a narrow and dirty stone 
Staircase into a very ordinary apartment, Hghted badly 
by a single candle placed upon a piano, which threw its 
dull Hght upon the faces of the guests, who were ranged 
around the walls of a badly furnished room with a stone 
floor. This floor was of tiles, without any carpet, and had 
been worn in a deep circular furrow by continual waltz- 
ing. There was no cheerful blazing fire, as at the other 
winter parties we had attended, and everything was cold 
and comfortless, except our reception, which was warm 
enough. Instead of a blazing hearth, however, there was 



78 OVER SEAS 

a large kettle of coals with a few embers in it, in the middle 
of the apartment, and each of the ladies held in their laps 
a small kettle of coals, called a scaldino or marito—the 
latter term signifying "husband"; a custom which has a 
singular appearance to an American. 

The young ladies played and sang, assisted by sev- 
eral gentlemen amateurs, among whom was a young 
marquis, whose chief endowment was in drawing ex- 
quisite sounds from the violin. Of their talents the 
mother of these young ladies had good reason to be 
proud, and took great satisfaction, consequently, in 
showing them off. But she was hideously ugly, and 
the daughters had come honestly by their share of 
the family faiUng. They had, notwithstanding, all that 
urbanity and grace of the Italian women, and made 
their guests perfectly at home. At the conclusion of the 
evening they got up many plays and dances peculiar to 
their country, and, among others, exhibited for our 
amusement the dances of the peasantry of the Campagna. 
I was persuaded to join them, but with a partner as un- 
satisfactory to me as my sins of the last year. The even- 
ing, however, passed off very pleasantly.* 

On Sunday last there was an exhibition, altogether 
novel to me, at the Pontifical College of the Propaganda 
Fide — an institution created under the auspices of Urban 
VIII. for the reception of young Asiatics and Africans, 
who were intended to disseminate the CathoUc religion in 



*The phraseology of the above letter is not altered, but one or 
two sentences have been transposed. 



IN EARLY DAYS, 79 

those countries. Thirty-one discourses were delivered in 
about as many different languages ; the scholars, being se- 
lected from the most intelligent youths of their respective 
nations, generally speaking, did justice to their parts. 

Judging by the ear, and a sHght knowledge of several 
of the languages, I had a good opportunity of comparing 
their euphony and harmony. So great was the attraction 
that the house was crowded to overflow, but by good 
fortune I obtained an excellent seat. 

The recitation in German was admirable, and called 
forth reiterated bursts of applause and the most enthusi- 
astic acclamation. I had never before had a conception 
of the richness and copiousness of this language. 

The English was recited badly by an Irishman, 
who rehearsed a poem on "Liberty"; yet, notwithstand- 
ing, it came in second for its share of praise. 

The Latin had full justice done it by an eclogue in 
imitation of Virgil. There was perfect music in the 
sound, with the soft Italian pronunciation. The whole 
brought forcibly to mind those lines which I had so often 
conned over, and which seemed now to apply to myself : 

" Et qua tanta, fuit Romani tibi causa vivendi?" 

My old traveling friend, Tiouchscoffski the Pole, was 
sitting beside me when the English was about to be 
rehearsed, and he whispered: ''Maintenant! ecoutez la 
langue Arabe." But what was his mortification on hear- 
ing his own language when its turn came. It was most 
barbarously treated by a young Dalmatian. 

The Sunday preceding this these scholars had at- 



8b OVER SEAS 

tended mass at this place in the costumes of their re- 
spective nations. Cardinal Fesch, the uncle of Napoleon, 
was present at this exhibition. 

One of the greatest sources of amusement is visiting 
the galleries of the Vatican and the studios of painters and 
sculptors. Thorwaldsen is considered the best sculptor of 
this day and next to Canova in his designs. Trentanove 
is next in merit, and Camuccini is the best Italian painter. 

I have become acquainted with Mr. Cook, an Amer- 
ican artist, who possesses uncommon talent, and through 
his means have been invited to the English Academy. 

The Vatican offers an inexhaustible fund of amusement 
and interest as well as the Gallery of the Capitol, for in 
these depots of the arts are preserved the most valuable 
antiques that have been found among the baths, palaces, 
villas, and monuments of the emperors. The treasures of 
temples, monuments, etc., of Italy, Greece, and Egypt 
have been assembled here to shelter them from the in- 
vasions of Time, and are ai ranged on the most judicious 
and magnificent scale. 

The productions of Greece and Rome, when the arts 
were in their highest perfection, may be here seen, and the 
amateur and antiquary are astonished and I may almost 
say satiated by this overwhelming multitude of beautiful 
and admirable objects. No one, I am confident, could 
well undertake the task of describing such numerous 
objects as present themselves. It would be the labor of 
more than man's brief portion of existence. Antiquaries 
find themselves puzzled even to ascertain the origin of 
some of the most remarkable ruins in Rome, much less 



IN EARLY DAYS. 81 

to give a local habitation to its minor curiosities, and 
this difficulty increases daily. 

Rome has been, in fact, essentially different in dif- 
ferent ages and under different governments; and there 
are perhaps as many layers of Rome as there have been 
centuries since its foundation. Ancient Rome is sunk 
fifteen or twenty feet below the modern surface, and it is 
necessary to excavate to that depth to find the foundations 
of the monuments of the Imperial City.* 

Last evening the report that the celebrated star of 
the ItaHan stage (David) was to perform tempted me to 
the opera, and I have occasion to repeat to you the re- 
marks I made on the previous performance. As yet I 
cannot say that I have found much to please me on the 
Italian boards, except the perfection of the ballet of 
Milan, and that is truly inimitable. 



*" While Fancy brings the vanished piles to view 
And builds imaginary Rome anew." 



82 OVER SEAS 



XI. 

RoM^, January i6, 1829. 

You will have rather a dearth of interesting matter 
in this letter, since I have not been out much recently, 
on account of the inclemency of the weathei, to gather 
any material for your amusement. 

Frequent rains occur in this climate, instead of the 
snows of winter in the corresponding latitudes of our 
country, and the weather is rendered extremely fickle by 
the prevailing winds. There are two kinds of winds 
which are very frequent here. The tramontana, or winds 
from the mountainous and snowy ridge of the Apennines, 
are as cold and chilly as our March winds, and are sud- 
denly followed by warm and enervating winds, the si- 
rocco from Africa, 

To-day, however, I have been in the Forum, and 
though now mid- winter, the warmth of the sun's rays was 
quite pleasant. The day before yesterday Mr. Fessenden 
rode with a party to some gardens beyond the Tiber or 
the Trastevere, as it is called, and described his excursion 
as so delightful that I regretted not having accepted an 
invitation to join them. 

These gardens belong to the Doria princes, adjacent 
to one of their palaces. He spoke in glowing terms of 
the beauty of its walks, statuary, and fountains; the 
fragrance of the orange groves, and its multitude of 



IN EARLY DAYS. 83 

flowers. From among them I have selected a few violets, 
not of spring, but of winter, to send to you. 

Speaking of Trastevere, it may not be amiss to ex- 
plain the term, which signifies that quarter which is sep- 
arated from the main body of the city by the Tiber. The 
inhabitants are called the Trasteverini, and pretend that 
they are lineal descendants from the ancient Romans. 
In this fancied nobility even the poorest of them take so 
much pride that they consider it an indelible disgrace to 
be allied to any other Roman or foreigner. 

An anecdote is related of a wealthy and respectable 
German, who addressed the daughter of a poor barber. 
The reply of the mother was to this effect : " No ! were 
my daughter to cherish so disgraceful a thought as that of 
marrying a foreigner, a barbarian! I should not scruple to 
plunge a dagger into her heart." 

During the last week we ascended to the top of the 
cupola of St. Peter's, which is not accomplished without 
considerable effort, but which amply repays for the 
trouble by the extensive view it affords of the city, the 
Campagna, and the Mediterranean. 

The church, besides being situated on rising ground 
(Mount Janiculum), is upward of 450 feet high, and was 
to be seen from the road as we approached the city when 
we were at a distance of forty miles ; so from this, one may 
judge that it overlooks an immense tract of country. 
The day was clear, and, being in the afternoon, the sun 
cast his rays in such a manner as to throw a dark shade 
on the ruins on our right and gave an unusually brilliant 



84 OVER SEAS 

coloring to the masses of clouds which were piled like 
"Ossa on Pelion" above the snowy mountains on our left. 
Toward the Mediterranean the pure atmosphere of an 
Italian sky contrasted finely with the deep blue color of 
the distant sea, which hemmed in about a fourth of the 
horizon. We could now trace the walls of Rome through- 
out their whole extent — now rising in full reHef on the 
sum^nits of hills and displaying their threatening turrets 
on some cliff, and then sinking into the valleys; now 
fording the waves of the yellow Tiber, and then more 
tamely stretching across the level plain. 

This immense wall encompasses a large portion of 
that quarter of the city which .was once ancient Rome, 
and contained about four milHons of people. Nothing is 
here to be seen in this now quite deserted section but 
heaps of decayed monuments, temples, baths, arches, and 
aqueducts, formerly the pride and wonder of the world. 
This desert solitude presents at present the melancholy 
aspect of a sepulcher, and such it may literally be called. 
The dust of the millions of human beings who peopled 
this soil is now incorporated wdth it, and scarcely a stone 
remains the monument of their existence. Generation 
after generation have successively sprung up, lived for 
awhile, passed away, and are now forgotten. What a 
comment on the mutability of human affairs ! What are 
now the fruits of that ambition which incited them? Of 
what avail to the heroic dust on which we tread is that 
fame for which they struggled ? What remains now of all 
these? Perhaps not even a name. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 85 

In tracing the serpentine windings of the Tiber in its 
course through the level Canxpagna to where it falls into 
the Mediterranean, and looking across the Apennines, we 
see here and there around their base the white walls of the 
neighboring small cities, linked together by a few scat- 
tered villas and imstic hamlets. The eye, when allowed 
full scope of vision, naturally rests on the most distant 
objects, and then returns fatigued from the exertion to 
those w^hich are nearer and more distinct. 

Rome lies beneath the spectator the shadow of what 
it was in its imperial glory, narrowed and shrunk into a 
small compass, leaving its useless walls where its inflated 
greatness once placed them ; resembling the skeleton of a 
giant shriveled within its armor, now no longer available. 

The defenses of Rome, or those perhaps of Troy, 
could not resist a ten -days siege in modem warfare. A 
twenty-four- pounder in those days would have deprived 
us of Virgil's description of the ten-years siege — dis- 
pensed with the operations of the baUista and the Tro- 
jan horse — and a well sprung mine in the penetralia of 
Priam's palace would have created more confusion in his 
household than all the bands of Pyrrhus and effectually 
have prevented the establishment of his penates on the 
Lavinian shore. 

From this conspicuous situation were to be seen the 
most magnificent antiquities in the world and the most 
beautiful edifices of modern construction. 

Among the former were the Colosseum, the Pantheon, 
the Temple of Peace, and the Tomb of Adrian, with col- 



86 OVER SEAS 

umns, triumphal arches, taonuments, obehsks, etc. The 
spires of numerous churches, some of which were formerly 
temples to the profane gods, are seen in every quarter of 
the city. 

The Catholic religion, in expelling the heathen deities 
from their seats, has erected in their niches the altars of 
its saints. The celebrated Pantheon of the gods is now 
dedicated to the Virgin. Bacchanalian vases and tripods 
subserve the purpose of baptismal fonts and receptacles 
of the acqua santa, and even the bronze statue of Jupiter 

Capitolinus is bowed down to by every true Catholic. 

No description of the Church of St. Peter can convey 
to the mind an adequate idea of its surpassing magnifi- 
cence; it must be seen, but not described. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 87 



XII. 

ROMK, January 2gth. 

As THIS is the last time I shall write from this place, I 
will give you a brief sketch of my occupation recently. 
We shall set out for Naples a week hence, and probably 
will be there by the 9th of next month and remain one or 
two weeks. I have every reason to be pleased with my 
winter at Rome, satisfied that there is no place in Europe 
which could have afforded me more fruitful sources of 
instruction and amusement. 

To-day we visited the studio of Thorwaldsen and 
Trentanove, with whose works we were much delighted. 
In the department of sculpture these eminent men stand 
unrivaled in the Roman schools. 

The Chevalier Thorwaldsen, a Dane by birth, is pre- 
eminent since the demise of Canova (a brilliant star after 
the setting sun!) and is "universally admitted to be the 
best sculptor now in Europe." He is particularly cele- 
brated for his hassi-rilievi, of which he has executed a 
great number which surpass even those of Canova. 

The most celebrated one of the kind is the Triumph 
of Alexander, made for the King of Denmark. Of this 
splendid performance he has made several copies. An- 
other superb work is his hasso-rilievo intended to adorn 
the tomb of a private gentleman of Frankfort. 

His statue of Pope Pius VII. is a noble and much- 



88 



OVER SEAS 



admired work. His Venus is the most beautiful subject 
of the kind I have seen, and malgre the opinion of the 
world, I admired it infinitely more than the Venus de 
Medici.* There was a perfection in its recent finish, and 
in the immaculateness of the pure white marble that 
gave it a peculiar charm. A bust of Byron, reputed to be 
the most faithful representation of him extant, ought to 
be recollected. 

Trentanove I had the good fortune to become well 
acquainted with, from his partiality to our countrymen; 
he being an enthusiast with regard to ever)rthing Amer- 
ican. By connoisseurs he is considered inferior to none 
but Thorwaldsen; his copies and busts are very beau- 
tiful, though his conceptions are not extraordinary. His 
bust of Washington and the Apollo Belvedere are all that 
I now recall. 




&/y//a//'t^m/7?. r//^'/J^^ /-,//.//&.-«. nr//' ^r,- /-/?. ^i^/i//c,y»/'' """^' 



In one corner of his studio was the recumbent nude 
statue of PauUne, which is very beautiful, and in its 
posture reminds me of the Hermaphrodite (Ermafrodito). 
Next to Thorwaldsen — proximo sed longo intervallo — is 



*Found at Tivoli and supposed to be a copy of the Venus of 
Cnidus by Praxiteles. 



IN EARLY DAYS, 89 

Mr. Gibson, who has executed many works of merit, so 
say the dilettanti; but, as I saw none of his productions, I 
can say no more about him. Mr. Greenough, an Amer- 
ican, is said to be a good sculptor. Mr. Rennie (Anglais) 
is also quite celebrated. 

While I am speaking of sculptors I may as well men- 
tion one or two of the most conspicuous painters, very few 
of whom have attained the excellence of the masters of 
the Italian school. Camuccini is considered the best Ro- 
man painter of the day, and his gallery furnished me a rich 
treat. His sculptural pieces are much esteemed and in 
demand by the first churches of Italy. His illustrations of 
Roman history are excellent, and have furnished splendid 
subjects for the engraver, but his coloring is not thought 
to be good. 

Severn, the English artist, I became acquainted with. 
He has considerable merit, and some of his performances 
are considered excellent. His last piece, executed for 
Prince Leopold, represents a group of Italian peasants at 
a Roman fountain, painted after the style of Raphael 
and executed in a masterly manner. Prince Leopold, who 
is himself an artist, is said to be highly pleased with the 
performance. He intends to exhibit it in the next Lon- 
don summer exhibition of 1829. 

I ought to pay a passing and deserved tribute to the 
talents of one of our own artists, Mr. Cook. He has at- 
tained considerable reputation among the students and 
artists of the English Academy at Rome. He gives 
grounds to hope that he may one day be an ornament 
to our country. His copy of *'The Transfiguration" by 



90 OVER SEAS 

Raphael possesses great merit, especially in the coloring. 
He has expressed a determination to visit all those places 
where are to be found the chefs-d'oeuvre of the best ancient 
masters, for the purpose of copying them. 

Through his means I was admitted to the Academy, 
where I had the satisfaction of seeing the study of the 
human figure. This is an interesting exhibition. The 
room is usually darkened, and the artists are arranged 
in a semi-circle, each with his lamp and drawing-desk. 
The person, whether male or female, is placed in the 
center of this group and made to assume any attitude 
upon which the majority will determine. The light is 
then admitted from a lamp above the person, so as to 
show all the developments of the figure — its muscles, 
action, attitude, etc., and its brilliant points. Each one 
has a different aspect or point of view, and the sculptors 
make their clay models at the same time. 

It would be doing injustice to my own taste and 
feelings, as well as to the extraordinary merit of the artist, 
were I to omit paying a just tribute to the talents of an 
artist who has given me more exquisite delight than any 
other. His name is Seguira, a Portuguese, whose modesty 
prevents his being sufficiently known. This morning, 
January loth, we formed a little party, consisting of Mr. 
Cook and his lady, Mr. Chapman, Mr. Fessenden, and 
myself, and went to his rooms to pay him a visit. 

The first subject he showed us was ''The Adoration of 
the Magi." This was treated in a masterly style, and 
for breadth, depth, and sublimity surpassed anything of 
the kind I ever witnessed. The effect of light and shade 



IN EARLY DAYS. 91 

and the brilliancy and transparency of its coloring were 
inimitable. I shall never forget the impression it made 
on all of us, and the artist Cook was enraptured with 
it. The light was introduced in a novel and supernatu- 
ral manner. The blaze of the comet (the Star of Beth- 
lehem) was seen in the background, and lit up the coun- 
tenance of the Virgin and Child with an unearthly re- 
fulgence, while it shone with rich luster upon the Ori- 
ental costumes, the caparisoned steeds and camels, and 
the costly gifts of the Magi. Each group formed a study 
of itself, and nothing was wanting in general effect by the 
minuteness of detail. 

A second finished picture represented the Crucifixion, 
on whose merits too much praise cannot be lavished. 
While the other possesses the sublimity of light, this de- 
picted the aw^ful sublimity of the darkness of that great 
event. He has felt all its truth and described it inimit- 
ably well. 

His third picture, which represents the Resurrection, 
rises still higher in the scale of the sublime, and the fourth, 
which represents the Day of Judgment, is a still loftier 
flight of his genius. In this he shows the heavens and the 
earth passing away before the Sun of Righteousness, and 
the Son of Man coming from the right hand of the Father 
to judge the quick and the dead. Never have I seen a 
more brilliant conception, nor can I imagine a bolder or 
loftier flight. To convey an adequate idea of the whole 
human race standing expectant of the justice of the 
eternal behest conveyed through the mediation of the 
Saviour; the heavens opening and disclosing the pen- 



92 OVER SEAS 

etralia of the universe, and the throne of the Deity, is a 
task seemingly too great for the powers of man. But he 
has gone beyond expectation. There seems to be a deep 
dread and awful pause in all Nature and a consciousness 
of the presence of the Divinity in it. The breathless sus- 
pense and calm that precedes the earthquake, as if that 
time in Revelation had arrived where "there was silence 
in heaven." The hosts of heaven and earth are arrayed 
the one above the other, and a benign light seems to be 
shed over everjrthing by the glory which emanates from 
the inmost and profound depths of the Eternal Throne. 

But I shall be considered as an enthusiast or a wild 
admirer of Seguira were I to dilate further upon the 
pleasing reminiscence, and therefore I will proceed with 
our party to the rooms of Severn, whom I have be- 
fore mentioned, and those of Turner, whom I forgot to 
mention as the Claude Lorraine of the Bnghsh. The 
latter has certainly some merit from his affectation of 
Claude's style of Itahan scenery, but certainly has no 
merit from his own affectation of fiery coloring with 
which he has destroyed the first merit. Turner's pieces 
consequently look well when engraved, for then his un- 
natural coloring is suppressed. 

Leaving his rooms, we proceeded homeward by 
the Monte Cavallo, anciently the Quirinal Hill, on which 
is the palace of the Pope. The hill receives its name from 
two statues, both of which represent a young man hold- 
ing a horse (rampant). They are said to have been 
rival works of Phidias and Praxiteles, which is inferred 
from the inscriptions on their pedestals. The house of 



IN EARLY DAYS. 93 

the Scipios was upon this hill, and the baths of Con- 
stantine and Diocletian. 

The Capitoline Hill — ^this is replete with interest, and 
may be considered the early nucleus of ancient Rome, 
together with its near neighbor, the Palatine, between 
which the Ratto dei Sabini took place. It is said to have 
derived its name from the discovery of a human head, 
said to be that of Olius (whence Caput Olius), while dig- 
ging the foundation of the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. 
On the right hand as you ascend the steps of the Cam- 
pidolio is Monte Caprino, on which the Temple of Jupiter 
Feretrius was built by Romulus, where the opima spolia 
were deposited, and also on the same side is the Tarpeian 
Rock ; on the left hand is the Church of Ara Coeli, on the 
site of the Temple of Capitoline Juno, and in front is the 
present Senate house. 

This interesting place was one of my favorite resorts, 
and I generally crossed it on my way to the Forum and 
Colosseum. On ascending the Scala Cordonata the fig- 
ures on the balustrades, said to be those of Castor and 
Pollux, are seen on each side of the Scala, and in the 
center of the quadrangle called the Intermontium the 
beautiful bronze equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius 
arrests and fixes our attention. The figure of Aurelius, 
hien pose, sits gracefully on his horse with a roll or baton 
in his hand, and, as was the custom, without spurs. The 
whole is so well managed that it seems as if he were 
urging his horse from off the pedestal, and Michael An- 
gelo, when he first saw it, was so struck with this that he 
enthusiastically exclaimed, **Go on!" {"Cammina!") 



94 OVER SEAS 

One of my earliest associations with the CapitoHne 
Hill was the Tarpeian Rock, and it was among the first 
places sought out, as we would seek an old acquaintance 
in a strange city, preparatory to being initiated into 
agremens. Relying on our guide, Madame Starke, whom 
we did not always find infallible, we went to a certain 
number (29, I believe), on Monte Caprino. Over the 
door of a mean, ill-looking house we saw the words "Rocca 
Tarpeia," and the passage led by a flight of dirty stairs to 
what, for a few baiocchi, they, the wretched inhabitants, 
will give their affidavit is the legitimate Tarpeian Rock, 
although the most learned antiquarians of the day are 
very doubtful of its location. As you are housed by a few 
miserable walls and see nothing of the rock or its form, 
you have only the satisfaction of being told for your 
money and your pains that you are standing on the 
identical rock. But, as I was not satisfied with this in- 
formation, I determined to visit another spot behind the 
Palazzo de' Conservatori, which had been pointed out 
to me by my friend, Mr. Cook. 

Accordingly, making a short detour, I found myself 
very soon at the extremity of the courtyard of this palace, 
and looking down over the parapet wall, I saw that I was 
standing upon the summit of a high rock or precipice, of 
which this wall made a kind of coping. I was convinced 
immediately, in my own mind, that this was the identical 
Tarpeian Rock, and wished no antiquarian research to 
confirm my conviction. I then descended, by a kind of 
lane, at its base, in order to have a better view of it. It 
was known to be on the western side of the Capitoline 



IN EARLY DAYS, 95 

Hill and near to the Tiber, and the Gauls doubtless made 
their attack in this quarter. Besides, this is the most 
precipitous part, and one from which criminals might 
have been thrown with certain destruction. The present 
height is between fifty and sixty feet by admeasurement, 
although the ruins and fallen tufo at its base are heaped 
up for perhaps twenty feet. The high walls of the cit- 
adel, together with the original height of the rock be- 
fore this rubbish was accumulated by earthquakes and 
decay, must have been an appalling precipice. 

While I was engaged in drawing this in my sketch- 
book I heard some voices on the parapet above me, 
and looking up, I saw my friend Cook, the artist, and 
his wife, who had pointed out this place to me, and 
I saw by his smiles that he was much gratified by my 
coinciding with him in opinion. He called out to me that 
he was pleased to see that I not only agreed with him 
but that I was following his example; he having previ- 
ously sketched it from this same position himself. 

I had leisure to visit this spot several times, and in- 
cluded it among my parting visits the evening before I 
left Rome, whose antiquities I could not leave without a 
sensation of regret at the prospect of never again revis- 
iting them. The treachery of Tarpeia and the unnatural 
death of Manlius recurred strongly to memory. I was 
then on the spot where they had fallen and had trod upon 
the site of his house, which had been razed to the ground 
after his execution, and my fancy repeopled this spot once 
more with the hordes of the Gauls, from whose barbarity 
the capital was saved by the sacred geese. 



9 6 OVER SEAS 

The Intermontium is inclosed on three sides by the 
palaces of the conservators and the senators and the Cap- 
itoline Museum; the Senators' Palace stands on an ancient 
foundation of peperino stone, supposed to be the tab- 
ularium built by Scylla. But where, we ask, is the once 
proud Roman Senate ? Where are the spirits which once 
inspired its councils and fired the breasts of ancient 
Romans? Shades of Cicero, Brutus, and Cato — where 
have they fled? They have gone, and with them the 
pride and glory of Rome. O Rome, how art thou fallen ! 
The Roman Senate as it now exists scarce deserves that 
once honored name. 

As we descend to the Forum on the right of the Cap- 
itol by the centra gradus we are assailed by the cries and 
importunities of the miserable wretches who are confined 
within the prisons on this side. Descending the steps 
leading by the Arch of Septimius Seveius, we enter the 
Roman Forum at the extremity of the Via Sacra. But 
we will stop en passant to look into the little chapel on 
our left, at the foot of the hill, where at stated hours are 
seen crowds of humble devotees ciossing themselves and 
counting their beads. We are naturally led to ask why 
this humble shrine,* which is almost beneath the ground, 
is such a resort? This is the celebrated Mamertine 
Prison, in which St. Peter and St. Paul, according to the 
inscription, were imprisoned. The pillar he was chained 
to in the * 'innermost " dungeon by order of Nero is shown, 
as well as the ''acqua vera" with which he baptized the 



*San Pietro in Carcere. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 97 

forty converts. This prison was founded by Ancus 
Martius. In this were also confined the conspirators of 
CatiHne, Jugurtha, Perseus, and Sejanus. It was for- 
merly entered on the upper side by the Scala Gemonia, 
not unlike the Ponte de' Sospiri at Venice. 

The Roman Forum.* This I would mention here, 
but the wilderness of interesting ruins which it contains 
would occupy some space were they described as they 
should be. The Arch of Septimius Severus is the first 
that we met before entering the line of the old Via Sacra. 
The French have disinterred the base, which was buried 
perhaps ten or fifteen feet below the present surface. 
Considering the time which has elapsed since these ed- 
ifices were built, they are in better condition than could be 
expected, and they furnish a surprising example of the 
perfection and durability of the -work of the Roman em- 
perors in the earliest stage of the empire. Erected as 
they were, many of them as far back as the Christian era, 
we could scarcely expect to find more than their sites ; 
but here we see many of these monuments, the pride 
and magnificence of imperial Rome, maintaining their 
original loftiness, almost triumphant over decay. The 
yet standing columns of the porticos of temples remain 
as landmarks to point out to the antiquary the true 
sites of most of the principal buildings which once 
adorned this abode of the arts. 

This is the Roman Forum, where Romulus and 
Remus were miraculously preserved; where they con- 



*" Magnum Forum" by Ovid, 



98 OVER SEAS 

ceived the plan of building a city, which they knew not 
was to become the law-giver of the world. Here was the 
scene of the Rape of the Sabines, and here the temple 
said to have been erected to Jupiter by Romulus on the 
identical spot. On one side we see the remains of the 
Temple of Romulus, built upon the spot where stood the 
Ficus Ruminalis, under which the twins were suckled; 
and on the other hand we see the Temple of Remus, 
buried beneath the present level so deep that its dome 
serves now as the entrance or vestibule of a modem 
church. Here was the bronze wolf, said by Cicero to 
have been struck by lightning, and shown with its fract- 
ure in the Conservators' Palace. Here we may stand 
upon the ground upon which heroes and statesmen and 
poets and philosophers have once trod ; upon the site of 
the rostrum which once witnessed the eloquence of Tully ; 
upon the spot where stood the tribunal of Appius, before 
which the faecal knife of Virginius, reeking with the chaste 
blood of his daughter, proclaimed the emancipation of 
the innocent from the brutality of the tyrant. But we 
look in vain for the abyss that engulfed the devoted and 
patriotic Curtius among the numerous excavations which 
have been made here to discover the ancient level and 
bases of temples. The whole Forum, as well as the cel- 
ebrated Via Sacra, is now twenty feet below the present 
degenerate sod, which now g^es by the ignominious ap- 
pellation of the Campo Vaccino, or Field of Cows, 



IN EARLY DAYS. 99 

XIII. 

January, 1829. 

A1.MOST everything worth notice has been seen and 
my curiosity at last sated, so that I shall resurae my 
journey with satisfaction. 

More than two months have served to make me fa- 
miliar with those antiquities which draw hither such 
crowds of travelers from all quarters of the globe, and 
have made me tolerably au fait to the character of Italian 
society. The latter has an attraction perhaps to the 
majority, but Rome's faded glories have more charms 
for me. 

Thus far my journey has been unintentionally timed 
by the rules of fashionable traveling, but now my in- 
clination leads me to differ from them, for while everyone 
is hastening to Rome to see the approaching Carnival, we 
are so Gothic as to go in the contrary direction. We 
console ourselves, however, with being able to witness 
that at Naples.* 

The only incidents that have occurred since my last 
letter are the death of one of the newly-made cardinals 
and the execution of a criminal by the guillotine. f 

*The death of the Pope immediately after we left arrested this 
amusement; so that we did not lose anything by our departure. 

fThe writer, many years ago, in conversation, thus described 
the execution. He spoke of the head being passed around on a 
platter for exhibition — the mouth and eyes wide open — a most 
ghastly sight. Suddenly, as if life had not before been extinct, 
after a lapse of several minutes, it gave a gasp, and in this instant 
the eyes and mouth closed in death. 



loo OVER SEAS 

My projected excursion to the falls of the Amo at 
Tivoli was made yesterday. This is an excursion which 
lovers of the picturesque and classical should not think 
of omitting. Impelled by the spirit of Dr. Syntax, I ac- 
cordingly went. We set out at an early hour, in order to 
take in several remarkable places on our way, and ar- 
rived at Tivoli, about eighteen miles distant, at 9 o'clock. 
After breakfast, we took a cicerone with us, and pro- 
ceeded to the Temple of Vesta, said by Plutarch to have 
been erected by Numa Pompilius. Independently of its 
picturesque locality, it is in itself an elegant little structure 
and of such correct and perfect proportions that even in 
its ruins it serves as a model of the pure Corinthian order. 

Situated on a lofty cliff that projects boldly over the 
falls on one side of the Tiburtine valley, it co m mands a 
distant view of Rome and the Campagna, while the un- 
broken torrent of the Amo, fretted by the numberless 
caverns which for ages it has been wearing in the rocks 
that impede its progress, foams around its base and falls 
with a deafening roar in the abyss below. 

We afterwards descended by a rugged and precip- 
itous path down the mountain to a large cave called the 
Grotto of Neptune. This grotto consists of a number of 
caverns, worn and fretted in the rock, into which nearly 
the whole body of the water is precipitated. Here from a 
projecting strip of tableland the cascade may be seen to 
advantage. Byron calls this the "horribly beautiful," 
and Salvator Rosa, who excelled in the horribly sublime, 
is here said to have failed. The waters seem to rush from 
out the depths of this grotto in the greatest commotion. 



IN EARLY DAYS. loi 

and the white foam and spray form a striking contrast 
with the dark and obscured recesses from which the water 
surges. The noise of the pent-up waters in this subter- 
ranean prison is quite deafening. Just above this grotto 
is the Temple of the Tiburtine Sybil, situated on an 
isolated rock overlooking one of the wildest dells im- 
aginable. Perhaps no spot could have been better cal- 
culated for her mystic rites than this, where one might 
fancy himself on haunted ground, and that the tutelary 
deity of the place hovered around the general ruin. Far 
below the Siren's grot may be seen from that of Neptune, 
where the last cascatella rushes down with astonishing 
impetuosity through a continued passage into the plains 
below and afterwards pursues its quiet way to the Tiber. 
The city of Tivoli is said to have been founded 462 
years before Rome, and it abounds in interest to the 
scholar, the painter, the poet, and the naturalist. We 
amused ourselves in examining the petrifactions which are 
numerous in the vicinity, among which was that of a 
wheel of an ancient car, distinctly and perfectly seen in 
the solid rock. Not having time to visit the villas of 
Horace, Varus, Macaenus, etc., in this neighborhood, we 
returned to Adrian's Villa, which was on our route home- 
ward. This extensive villa, which had a circuit of seven 
miles, once contained a great number of edifices which 
Adrian caused to be erected after his own designs in im- 
itation of the most remarkable places he had seen in 
Egypt, Asia, and in Greece — such, for instance, as the 
Temple of Serapis, the Lyceum of Aristotle, the Aca- 
demia of Plato, etc. The ruins of temples, porticos, 



I02 OVER SEAS 

theaters, and baths are here so numerous as to form a 
perfect maze, and the numberless works of art that have 
been rescued from these ruins have largely contributed 
to enrich the treasures of the Vatican. Many of the 
buildings show their primitive arrangement and design, 
and, with the assistance of an intelligent guide, we de- 
rived a great deal of information. The barracks of the 
Praetorian Guards, which it is said were once capable 
of concealing the incredible number of 100,000 men, are 
sufficiently preserved to show that such was very probably 
the fact. The Tomb of Plautus and the Tartar Lake were 
included in this day's excursion. 

I am now making my parting calls on my acquaint- 
ances, preparatory to leaving this place and commencing 
my rounds to all my favorite haunts among the ruins, in 
order to impress their features more strongly upon my 
memory. It is nearly as melancholy, if not more so, to 
me, to leave these inanimate things, which have con- 
tributed so much to the pleasure of my stay here, as to 
leave my acquaintances, when I reflect that I shall never 
behold them again. In our converse with the works of 
Nature there is no intrusion of the jarring passions which 
affect mankind, and the quiet solitude of these ruins, un- 
disturbed by no malicious feelings incident to human 
nature, give a sacred retreat, whose enjoyment, though 
negative, we are certain will not prove so fallacious and 
ungrateful as our intercourse with society. 



IN EARLY DAYS, 103 

"There is given 
Unto the things of earth which Time has bent 
A spirit's feeling, and where he has leant 
His hand, but broke his scythe, there is a power 
And magic in the ruined battlement ; 
For which the palace of the present hour 
Must yield its pomp and wait till ages are its dower." 

The past few evenings have been extremely pleasant, 
and I have indulged myself in rambling through the ruins 
of the Forum Romanum by moonlight, but the most de- 
servedly favorite walk is the Colosseum, which is near the 
Forum. Those who wish to enjoy this fully must regret 
that it is so commonly the resort of strangers on these 
moonlight nights, which tends to disturb the silence and 
solitude so essential to its enjoyment. How inconsonant 
it is with the character of the place to see its ruinated 
arches, its spacious and grass-grown arena, and its mossy 
and ivied walls peopled by liveried servants and gay 
equipages, and to hear the chattering of ladies and the 
loud vociferations of men trying to awake the echoes of 
the vast ruin! The first time I went there, there were 
about twenty-four English persons and two or three 
Americans. As we were collected together, without a 
guide, at an eligible point of view opposite the main 
entrance, I was amused with listening to the expres- 
sions of the different characters of the party. **Law 
me ! did you ever see anything like it ? " said one. "Bless 
me, how pretty!" said another. "Well, this will tell well 
in our journals," said a third. While a fourth wondered 
"What would Mr. Smith say to all this if he were here?" 
There was one fat My Lord of the party and his spouse, a 



104 OVER SEAS 

homely My Ladyship, on whom those who had no opinions 
of their own to express depended as their oracles. My 
Lord, of course, feeling duly sensible of the deference 
which was paid to his opinions, uttered them with oracular 
precision, and with all the deliberation and dignity of 
his rank crossed his hands before him, tapped his snuff- 
box at expressive intervals, and occasionally refreshed his 
olfactories and his barren wit while he gave vent to his 
empty utterances. 

This was my first visit, but the last one was more 
fortunate. The hour was later, and the crowd having re- 
tired left the ruin in almost perfect loneliness, except here 
and there a figure might be seen gliding ghost -hke among 
the broken arcades, and the feeble glimmerings of the 
torch of the monkish guide was occasionally to be seen 
appearing and disappearing among the broken colunms. 
At length, having no further duties to perform, he retired 
to his cell, which was built in one of the nooks of the 
Podium. The silence at length was only interrupted by 
the measured tread of the sentinel, the sound of a dis- 
tant clock, or the whirring wing of a bat. Echo, as if 
fatigued with answering to the impertinent demands of 
clamorous voices, relapsed into a sleep from which she 
might be startled by the Hghtest tread. The least sound 
might be audible, and the sudden tramp of a footstep 
upon the hollow-sounding pavement was reverberated 
from every point of the circular arena and re-echoed by 
every arcade. At such an hour and under such circum- 
stances we can only enjoy this walk to advantage. It is 
not merely sufficient that this ruin should be seen, but its 



IN EARLY DAYS. 105 

imposing grandeur must be felt. There is a nobleness and 
sublimity in it which impresses the mind with a rever- 
ential awe, mingled with an admiration amounting to re- 
spect for the minds of those who could dare to rear such 
a gigantic structure. Our wonder arises not so much from 
reflection that such a plan should have been devised, but 
that such a stupendous edifice should have even been 
reared and executed. But the Roman emperors well knew 
how to subserve their own pride by erecting monumental 
trophies to perpetuate their names, by pampering to the 
luxurious tastes of their subjects. Hence we find that 
these colossal buildings are generally baths, temples, and 
amphitheatres which were pubHc buildings for the amuse- 
ment or accommodation of the populace. How well these 
emperors succeeded in rendering their names immortal 
these fragments remain to show. They still exist, and 
may still exist long after we, who now lament their decay, 
shall have passed away and been forgotten. They are as 
pages in the book of History, telHng in the language of 
Ossian a tale of the times of old — ^the deeds of days of 
other years, but tell us at the same time of sanctioned crime, 
of abused power, and fallen ambition. While we con- 
template this venerable pile, great even in its desolation 
and beautiful even in its ruin, we cannot wish it other 
than as it is — a splendid subject for the painter, a de- 
licious treat for the antiquary, and an object of venera- 
tion for the devotee ; presenting not an unapt picture of 
Rome itself. 

" When falls the Colosseum, Rome (itself) shall fall." 



io6 OVER SEAS 

As I stood in the center of the grass-grown arena and 
surveyed each part with thoughtful attention, I reflected 
how many years had rolled over this structure, how many 
events had transpired, and how many revolutions and 
vicissitudes nations had experienced since its erection — 
more than half a million suns had passed over it, and that 
religion which was cemented by the blood of the martyrs 
shed on this very spot has been hailed by milUons in a 
hemisphere which was then unknown. Ever3rthing trans- 
pired to lend a pleasing charm to this scene. Above us 
the horizon was limited by the lofty circular walls, which 
presented a ragged outline upon the clear blue sky studded 
with innumerable stars, which seemed like an immense 
vaulted canopy suspended over our heads. The moon's 
white disk appeared above the exterior wall on one side 
and shed a mild silvery light upon the objects on the op- 
posite side. There was a quiet repose suited to the 
time and place, which had a soothing effect upon the 
feelings, and a deep silence, only interrupted at times by 
the low sullen moaning of the wind through the arcades, 
well calculated to inspire a pleasing awe. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 107 

XIV. 

Napi^KS, February, 1829. 

On arriving at Naples the Studio was our first at- 
traction, which contains, besides many valuable paintings 
and statues, nearly everything that was heretofore dis- 
covered at Pompeii and Herculaneum — the latter alone 
being sufficient to form an entire museum. The statues 
are chiefly in bronze and some in marble, denoting a high 
state of perfection in sculpture among the ancients at the 
time those cities were buried. Bvery article is preserved 
in the state in which it was found; such, for instance, as 
culinary vessels containing bread and meat, and even the 
half-baked food left in their ovens by the inhabitants in 
their precipitous flight. The preservation of these other- 
wise perishable articles has been assisted in a great 
measure by their being in a carbonated state. Arms, 
sacrificial vases, culinary utensils, toilet ornaments, and 
everything, even to juvenile playthings, are here de- 
posited. These things served to excite our curiosity still 
more to see the cities themselves and to witness the ex- 
cavations which are daily going on. 

We set out with a resolution of going to Pompeii and 
Herculaneum and ascending Mount Vesuvius the same 
day, making in all thirty-six miles, going and returning. 
We did so, notwithstanding the difficulty of ascending the 
mountain, which rendered this excursion very fatiguing. 
We reached Pompeii about 11 o'clock, and spent three 



io8 OVER SEAS 

hours in perambulating its streets, the greater part of which 
has been uncovered. We went into all its temples, thea- 
ters, tribunals, markets, etc., and the residences of the most 
conspicuous inhabitants — their names being generally 
engraved upon the door-posts. Among these residences 
the house of Cicero was pointed out to us. The stones of 
which the city is built, having been imbedded in light lava 
ashes, are nearly as entire as they were eighteen hundred 
years ago, not having been exposed to decomposition by 
the action of the atmosphere. The mosaic pavements are 
many of them as when they were buried, and the fresco 
paintings and gilding of the walls are fresh and vivid after 
washing the ashes from their surface. The tracks of 
wheels are worn deep into the pavement — ^the streets 
are very narrow with trottoirs and curbstones — and the 
houses are only one story high. In one of the shops are 
shown the marks of glasses upon the marble counter, 
where acids or medicated Hquors had been sold and had 
corroded the marble. The streets of the Tombs must have 
been beautiful, being enfiladed by two rows of white 
marble monuments, too large for transportation to the 
museum or to excite the cupidity of robbers, they 
have been suffered to remain, exhibiting fine subjects 
for the pencil and for the contemplation of persons of 
taste. Our guide pointed out to us those places in which 
skeletons had been found and described their different 
situations when they were overtaken by destruction. 
Some were caught in the act of flying with their portable 
wealth, and one old fellow with his servant was uncer- 

moniously detained with his bags of money, in which 
e 



IN EARLY DAYS. 109 

situation he was found. Two gentlemen skeletons were 
also found in the barracks of the Praetorian Guards in the 
stocks, rather incapacitated at that urgent moment for 
any prompt maneuver, and waiting very demurely for the 
day of judgment. 

Returning towards Naples, we stopped at Hercu- 
laneum, where we procured mules to ascend Vesuvius. 
The excavations are going on but slowly, on account of 
the village, which is built over the ancient city and com- 
pels them to fill up as fast as they excavate. The road 
from this place to the top of Vesuvius is about four miles, 
and being filled with volcanic stones and lava our mules 
had considerable difficulty in ascending. However, we 
attained the summit in about two hours. We viewed the 
interior of the crater under very favorable circumstances 
— having reached it just before dusk, we saw it by day- 
light, after dark, and finally when the moon lOse. It is 
needless to say how much pleased we were with this great 
natural phenomenon.* 

^Following the above letter there is a note or memorandum, 
which reads: 

"Left Rome February 3d and arrived at Naples February 
6th. Remained a week at that place, and embarked on board a 
Genoese vessel bound for Leghorn and Genoa. 

"We passed in sight of Elba and touched at the port of Leg- 
horn, where, on account of the reported sickness at Naples, we were 
not allowed to land. Pursued our voyage to Genoa, making about 
six days from Naples. 

"We were put in quarantine for fifteen days." 



no OVER SEAS 



XV. 

Naples, February, 1829. 

We left Rome early on the morning of the 3d. of 
February, and pursued our route towards Naples over the 
Appian Wav. On either side of the road appears a row 
of dilapidated old tombs crumbling into shapeless mounds 
over the dust of those whose memory they can no longer 
perpetuate. 

About fourteen or fifteen tuiles from Rome is the city 
of x\lbano. which is the favorite resort of pleasure parties 
during the summer months. It stands on the declivity 
of a gentle eminence, the summit of which overlooks the 
vallev of the Tiber and commands an extensive ^dew of 
the Latin coast. ^Tiile our vetturino stopped to refresh 
his horses we ascended the hill to enjoy this Yiew as well as 
that of the lovely Lake Albano. On the one hand the lake 
stretches out for many miles towards the Mediterranean, 
and presents a flat and unvarying surface T^ithout cultiva- 
tion or inhabitants. The deep blue expanse, so pecuhar 
to the Mediterranean, hems in the faint outlines of the 
shore (which is only broken at intervals by some soHtary 
and moldering tower) and closes in the \dew of the horizon 
in this direction. On the other hand is seen behind us the 
tranquil waters of a lake (embosomed by high banks cov- 
ered with thick foliage), which was once the crater of an 
extinct volcano. 



IN EARLY DAYS, iii 

" And here Albano's scarce divided waves 

Shine from a sister valley: — and afar 
The Tiber winds and the broad ocean laves 

The Latin coast, where sprang the Epic war, 

Arms and the man, whose reascending star 
Rose o'er an empire; but beneath thy right, 

Fully reposed from Rome, and where yon bar 
Of girdling mountains intercept the sight, 
The Sabine farm v/as till'd, the wear}^ bard's delight." 

It is said that this city was founded 400 years before 
Rome, by Ascanius, the son of ^neas. They pretend to 
show the mausoleum erected in honor of the founder, 
which is a large pyramidal pile near the entrance gate, so 
divested of any ornament or sepulchral inscription as to 
leave antiquaries in doubt as respects its origin. A short 
distance beyond the town is a canal intended to drain off 
the waters of the lake which formerly inundated the ad- 
jacent country. This work, which, considering the state 
of the arts among the Romans and their then ignor- 
ance of _ the use of gunpowder, might be considered an 
extraordinary undertaking, was carried for two miles 
through the mountains and was completed in two years. 
This affords a striking example of the then existing in- 
fluences of superstition. The Romans, having laid siege 
to Veia, consulted the oracle of Apollo at Delphos, which 
replied that the Veians could not be subjugated until 
this lake should be drained. "^ 



*In the annotations of Horace, Liber IV., Ode ist, is the fol- 
lowing note on the Lake Albano: 

"Not far from Rome were the lake, mountains, and city of 
Albano — xide Cicero, Div. i, n. 100." During the war with the 



112 OVER SEAS 

The salubrity of the taountain air and the beauty of 
the scenery made the country in and around Albano the 
favorite retreat of the emperors and illustrious men of 
antiquity, and nothing is more common than to meet at 
every turn of the landscape the remains of their villas 
and the ruins of temples, and the whole country around, 
though sterile in the extreme, is nevertheless replete with 
pleasing associations to the classical traveler. Among 
the principal objects of interest on this route are the 
Formian Villa of Cicero, together with the Cenotaph, 
said to have been erected by his freemen on the spot 
where he was assassinated ; the Tomb of the Horatii and 
Curatii, or, as it is called by some, the Tomb of Pompey, 
on account of its Egyptian form. The site of the ancient 
town of Mitumum, near which is the marsh in which 
Marius concealed himself previous to being deHvered into 
the power of the magistrates of that city — the Pontic 
Marshes. Our own native prairies cannot exhibit a more 
complete picture of soHtude and savage steriHty than 
this extensive wilderness, which has been in some measure 
reclaimed from absolute desolation by the efforts of man. 

Veni, Lake Albano overflowed its usual boundary, and the reply of 
the oracle to the Romans, when consulted, was, "Si in tnare fluxis- 
set, Roman perituram; si repressus esset Veios," and accordingly the 
Romans, with remarkable perseverance, set about the reduction 
of its waters, which were soon after to fertilize the lands below 
the city. 



IN EARLY DAYS. ii3 



XVI. 

Genoa, February 17, 1829. 

My last letter was written just on the eve of em- 
barking at Naples in a vessel bound for Leghorn and 
Genoa. It was with great dehght that I commenced this 
voyage, with the pleasant reflection that I was once more 
bending my way homeward ; and while sailing with a fair 
wind out of that beautiful bay I saw the castellated hills 
and white palaces of Naples gradually recede and blend 
with the fading horizon without the least emotion or 
regret, conscious that I was leaving a land of mendicants 
and slaves to breathe once more the pure air of liberty 
and enjoy the welcome of my friends. From the vessel I 
could discern the smoky summit of Vesuvius long after 
Naples had sunk from view beneath the horizon, and in 
six days we arrived safely at Genoa, having touched for a 
short time at Leghorn. My pleasure on having completed 
this short but disagreeable voyage was marred by the 
mortification of being quarantined in port. You may 
judge of my feelings on being thus incarcerated and de- 
tained, especially as every soul on board enjoyed un- 
usually good health, and the courier who brought the in- 
formation that there was a contagious disease at Naples 
had arrived only a few hours before us. We had heard 
nothing of the kind before embarking, and supposed it 
was a ruse in order to prevent the foreigners from flocking 
to Naples from Rome after the death of the Pope, which 



1 14 OVER SEAS 

recent event put an end to all gaiety at the latter place 
and made Naples the most attractive. But, however 
that might be, we were here imprisoned with the prospect 
of remaining on board* as great a length of time as it had 
occupied to make our voyage across the Atlantic and 
without any resources or any species of amusement 
whatever. Confinement and inaction are at all times 
irksome, but to me, under such circumstances, they were 
doubly disagreeable on account of my impatience to 
return home. 

Pent up in a small cabin of a small vessel, with un- 
comfortable berths, bad cookery, and indifferent com- 
pany, I cannot promise that my letters will afford you 
much interest. But, as it is, I will revert to my late ex- 
cursions in the vicinity of Naples for more pleasing sub- 
jects on which to dwell. While there I made a short tour 
around the Bay of Baiae, which place is replete with clas- 
sical associations and is the scene of many of Virgil's and 
Horace's descriptions. Lake Avemus, for instance, Vir- 
gil's fabled entrance to the infernal regions, is among the 
earliest recollections of my school-days, and has no at- 
traction except that which poetry and fable have at- 
tached to it. The description which he gives in the Sixth 
Book comports with its desolate and sterile aspects, as 
also that of Fenelon, where Telemachus is represented as 
seeking his father Ulysses in the infernal shades. But it 
is no longer noxious and fatal as Virgil has described by 



*Possibly the ship Mentor, of which we have the sketch of the 
captain. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 115 

the sulphurous exhalations from the waters of the lake. 
The place, however, was well chosen by the poet as the 
entrance to Pluto's dominions. The Sybil's grotto on the 
borders of the lake was the first to attract cur attention. 
As nearly as 1 can recollect, his words apply exactly to 
the present situation of this cave. He speaks of it as "a 
profound cavern, whose rocky and yawning mouth was 
screened by the shadows of the wood and hemmed in by 
the black waters of the lake." 

" Umbranum hie locus est, somni Noctisque, sopra." 

Accompanied by our guides, each bearing bis lighted 
torch, we entered it and penetrated about 300 yards. It 
is hewn into the solid rock or puzzolana in an arched form, 
and is said to have been begun by Nero with the intention 
of carrying off the surplus waters of Avernus. At this end 
of the cave we stopped, and cur guides then proposed to us 
to explore the Baths of the Sybil, which are two or three 
small chambers cut into the rock, and we entered by a 
narrow passage just large enough to admit of one person 
passing at a time, and leading from the right of the main 
cavern. Here it was that, immured from the sight of men, 
she was accustomed to add mystery to her ceremonies, 
and from whence she uttered her equivocal prophecies. 
The water was about four feet deep in these baths, and 
our guides were obliged to carry us around them on their 
backs. 

After this I \dsited the ruins of Baiae, once the 
favorite residence of Roman emperors and statesmen, and 



ii6 OVER SEAS 

celebrated in the verse of Horace, but since destroyed by 
an earthquake. 

Beyond Baiae about a mile is the River Styx, to which 
I proceeded in company of my guide, and crossed the 
Acherontic Marsh, which has now become dry, sandy, and 
unfavorable to vegetation. Having crossed it, I found 
myself on the banks of a small river bordered with weeds, 
which empties into Lake Fusaro, the Tartarus or Acheron 
of the ancients. This was the true River of the Dead — 
and I had now an opportunity of realizing the difference 
between actual scenes and the creations of my youthful 
fancies. There was but little to corroborate my early 
impressions respecting the fabled conceits of the poet in 
the well-remembered story of Eneas' descent to the lower 
regions and visit to the Elysian Fields. But the solitude 
and silence of such a place might have given rise to such 
imagery. The rustling of the winds along the reedy shore 
might have been the fancied flight of startled ghosts at 
the approach of mortal footsteps, and the shriek of the 
wild birds that mounted on the wing might, by a further 
stretch of the imagination, have been compared to the 
wailings of condemned spirits. There was not a human 
being near us, and the place was altogether lone and des- 
olate. I endeavored to summon to my mind the image 
of Charon as depicted in the "^neid": A squalid and 
hoary old fellow with blood-shot eyes, yet still in a green 
old age ; his sordid garments knotted around him and 
hanging in folds from his brawny shoulders, propelling 
with lusty sinews his crazy bark across the Stygian waves, 
and dispersing with his oar the crowd of querulous ghosts 



IN EARLY DAYS. 117 

who nish with tumuUuous anxiety towards him as he 
nears the shore. They are compared, in beautiful simile, 
to the rushing of early autumn leaves or the waves of the 
seashore, or to the sound of many wings when the gath- 
ering flocks, urged by the storms of winter, take their 
flight for more congenial climes. 

With the external appearance of Naples I was much 
pleased, and nothing can be said to equal the beauty of 
the bay and surrounding scenery ; but I can say nothing 
more; the depravity of morals among its inhabitants is 
proverbial. I would in a word compare this city to a 
splendid sepulchre adorned with sculptured marble, while 
within all is decay and corruption. So little is there of 
virtue that a man's worth may be reckoned by his dis- 
tance from the gallows. I felt happy in leaving it, and 
am more convinced than ever of the superiority of our 
own country by comparison. 



ii8 OVER SEAS 



XVII. 

Paris, March 20, 1829.* 

In lejaving Genoa we proceeded on our journey to- 
wards Nice, which is situated on the frontier of France, 
in the lovely valley of the Var. Instead of taking the 
more expeditious mode of traveling by courier, we pre- 
ferred the voiture, as enabling us to view more leisurely 
and satisfactorily the military road between these two 
places, which presents an admirable instance of the grand 
conceptions of Napoleon's genius, and, like the road over 
the Alps, is another imperishable monument to his great- 
ness. It is by such conquests as these — where Nature 
has been subdued to the dominion of man — that he has 
shed more lasting glory around his fame and reaped more 



*"I arrived at this place [Paris] a few days since, and took up 
my old lodging in the Rue Vivienne. My health is unusually good, 
arising from constant exercise and traveling through the salubrious 
climates of Italy and the south of France. The whole journey is 
about 3,000 miles since I left this place, and I have computed that 
when I return I shall have been over about 14,000 miles, including 
my voyages across the Atlantic, making six out of twelve months' 
furlough that will have been spent constantly en route at an average 
of about 80 miles per day. I have been to see General Lafayette. 
He enjoys excellent health, and attends constantly to his numerous 
duties, and has afforded every facility for attending the debates in 
the Chamber of Deputies. Lieutenant Fessenden is going to Brus- 
sels and thence to London, and I shall go through Havre and meet 
him in Liverpool. — J. F" 



IN EARLY DAYS. 119 

fadeless laurels than those he acquired by his most bril- 
liant achievements in the field; for so long as posterity 
shall be benefited by such works, so long must his name 
be remembered as their projector. 

Until within a few years the Sardinian Government 
opposed the constiuction of the grand military read from 
motives of policy, fearing their Gallic neighbors and 
feeling a kind of security behind that natural entrench- 
ment which the Apennines afforded. The intercourse, 
consequently, between the French and Sardinian Govern- 
ments had before been comparatively restricted and de- 
pendent on the toilsome passage of a rugged and mount- 
ainous bridle-road on the backs of mules, or upon a pre- 
caiious voyage by sea in a kind of coasting vessel, called 
by the Genoese feluccas. 

It was early in the morning, before sunrise, when we 
left Genoa; the city was still in a state of profound 
quietude, and except a few straggling devotees proceeding 
devoutly and demurely to their matins, and here and 
there a drowsy sentinel, few inhabitants were abroad at 
that hour. I felt pleased at leaving a place where I had 
been detained so long in the vile durance of quarantine, 
and elated at the prospect of returning once more to 
France. The morning was delightful — the primavera had 
commenced, and the pure and invigorating freshness 
of the sea breeze from the Mediterranean, laden with the 
rich fragrance of the orange groves, gave pleasure to the 
sense and exhilaration to the system. It was so early in 
the morning that the city gates were not yet opened, and 
while waiting and contemplating the scene I have de 



I20 OVER SEAS 

scribed from the windows of the carriage my attention was 
arrested by an unusual noise, for which at first I was at a 
loss to account. It was a confused hum of a multitude, 
and formed a strange contrast with the stillness and re- 
pose of the sleeping city ; but the mystery was soon solved. 
A guard of soldiers was drawn up to flank the gate^, and 
no sooner were they thrown open than a promiscuous 
crowd rushed in. Men, women, and children of all ages 
and descriptions, fowls of the air, beasts of the field, 
cattle, and creeping things, came in one motley crowd, 
like the emancipated of Noah's Ark. The cause of this, 
it appears, is a certain custom in Genoa not to allow the 
market people to enter the city until a specified hour, by 
reason of which the peasants collect in the narrow road 
leading to the city gate and fill it up with a dense crowd, 
extending perhaps for half a mile. This scene was as 
picturesque as it was novel, and would have afforded an 
inexhaustible study for the pencil of a Moreland, a Wilkie, 
or a Hogarth. Such grouping, such various costumes, 
such a diversity of character, and such a mingling of the 
picturesque, the grotesque, and the burlesque, I had never 
before seen. It was with some difficulty that we threaded 
our way through the busy groups as they hurried by us, 
impatient to reach the mart before their neighbors. 

At length we pursued our way unobstructed towards 
the little town of Cogoletto. This, like most of the small 
towns on the margin of this coast, is built low down on 
the sandy shore, crowded, seemingly, into the sea by the 
high ridges and bluffs which extend down from the Ap- 
ennines, and is inhabited almost entirely by fishermen, 




The Birthplace of Christopher Columbus. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 121 

who, living nearly all the time upon the water, pitch like 
sea-birds upon those little sunny spots which are to be 
found among the numerous indentations of this rocky 
coast. Here they build their fishing-boats, or feluccas, 
and their houses — which latter are a rather secondary 
consideration with them — as sea-birds build nests for 
their offspring. These fishing-huts are built generally of 
white stone, and arranged parallel to the curvature of the 
shore, and present, when viewed at a distance from the 
sea, a speciously imposing appearance. It was in this 
little town that our vetturino halted to refresh his horses, 
and at an inn which was called the best in the place. It 
was no other than a small auberge of most promising ex- 
terior, which under any other circumstances would have 
been called unpromising were it not for the luminous 
display of charcoal and whitewash letters over the door 
by way of frontispiece, which gave us to understand that 
this was the only place in the world where good wine and 
good cheer could be expected. Of good-will there was 
abundance, but not exactly calculated to satisfy, at the 
time, a good appetite. 

While we were waiting for breakfast and admiring 
the prospect of the sea studded with white sails, and 
gazing at the groups of fishermen who were mending 
their nets on the beach or basking with their squatted 
appearance and swarthy faces in groups here and there 
upon the strand Hke their amphibious brethren of the 
deep, we were accosted by a pretty little Sardinian girl, 
who had ghded into the apartment unperceived, with, 
'*Buon' giorno, signori! Buono giornol " We returned her 



122 OVER SEAS 

salutation and accepted a paper which she held to us, 
adding: "Qui este e il paese di Colombo — Voleie videre la 
sua casa." We read it, and understood that the house 
in which Columbus was bom was within a few steps of 
our inn. We accordingly went to visit it while waiting 
for breakfast, and I amused myself with taking a sketch 
of it for your edification. 



IN EARLY DAYS. 123 



XVIII. 

[This description was read to me by my father as long ago as 
1850, and was written by him shortly after his visit to the chateau 
of his "old friend and college chum." My impression is, that the 
letter was written in the same vein or spirit as the description on 
page 10, "A Moonlight Scene," and as a test of his descriptive 
powers, fiction founded on fact.] 

The SITS of the chateau of my old friend and 
college chum had been judiciously and tastefully se- 
lected as combining all the advantages that unas- 
sisted Nature could offer to promote health and grat- 
ify the lover of the picturesque. This spot reminded 
me of the valley of the Amo where it laves the feet of 
the Queen of Italy — Florence. Embosomed in hills 
which shelter it in winter, and situated on a table -land 
of gentle declivity, gradually sloping down to the bay at 
the south, while the eastern side is abruptly terminated 
by picturesque crags on the margin of the creek — no place 
could have been chosen better suited for the embelHsh- 
ments of art or more in accord with the genius of its 
owner. On the one hand, a commanding view of the 
broad expanse of the bay, its blue waters studded with 
the ensigns of every nation, with steamers moving 
majestically like things of Ufe and inhabitants of the 
deep; on the other, a novel combination of tranquillity 
and rugged beauty. The creek meandering among the 
rocks had worn irregular channels in fantastic forms and 
deep ravines; now leaping over declivities in its nar- 



124 OVER SEAS 

rowing passage and again pursuing its eddying course in 
harmless whirls around the banks below at the widening 
of the stream. 

The approach to the chateau from the city, whose 
spires in the distance could be distinctly seen, led up an 
avenue shaded by embowering trees, whose tall trunks 
were covered with the honeysuckle and the ivy; the car- 
riage way en either side being bordered with a sward of 
verdure, enameled with wild flowers. The main gate at 
the entrance to the grounds was flanked on its outer in- 
closure on both sides by a porter's lodge, or rather by 
buildings which had been erected for a double purpose — 
for ornament and for the accommodation of worthy 
famihes who could not afford their rents, and to whom a 
small portion of ground was assigned for gardens, which 
were kept in a high state of cultivation. 

A beautiful little girl, about twelve years of age, 
neatly dressed, ran out at the sound of the approaching 
carriage, and, swinging open the iron gate, stood with 
modest air. With one hand on the latch and with the 
other passed under her flowing hair, with a gentle toss 
she threw her ringlets back upon her white neck, and 
smiling as we passed, dropped a courtesy of welcome; 
the excitement at the moment imparting a beautiful 
glow to her complexion, and presenting a picture of 
innocence and happiness. 

The roadway wound up an almost imperceptible de- 
clivity, and the firm gravel bed, though crackling under 
the wheels of the carriage, showed no impress. The road 
was bordered on each side by a curved sward, traced with 



IN EARLY DAYS. 125 

mathematical precision and hemmed in with rows of box, 
above which there appeared shrubs of higher growth — 
rose-bushes, Hlacs, and snowballs. 

The chateau was screened from view, save at occa- 
sional vistas, until we were brought by a sweeping curve 
to its principal entrance. In a moment after, we were 
receiving the gratulations of my old friend — at one time 
boy companion — who, with his charming family, had 
assembled in the portico to greet us. When I last saw 
him, he was youthful and gay, possessing the freshness of 
complexion of the North. His features were now matured 
and tempered with that more serious cast which even 
the most buoyant acquire by mingling with mankind 
and contending with the capiice of the world. He had 
seen much of its unkindness, though not experiencing 
actual reverses. Accustomed to some privations and 
learning to endure by habit, he had taught himself to be 
contented in early life with mediocrity of fortune, ever 
keeping before him the motto, ''Durante et rebus vosmet 
servanti. "* He patiently awaited the turn of the wheel. 
His education had been scientific, but his inclinations 
leant towards the arts, and whatever combined the two 
did not fail to please him. The delightful retreat he had 
chosen was favorable alike for seclusion and society, for 
study and contemplation, as well as for conversation 
with those whose habits were congenial with his own, and 
this spot was just far enough removed from the turmoil 



*Ivive,' and reserve yourselves for better fate. — Dryden. 
Bear up, and live for happier days. — Conington. 



126 OVER SEAS 

of a busy world to be exempt from intrusion, and yet near 
enough by boat and car to the sphere of business and 
fashion. Here he had collected every work that could 
gratify his taste for the arts and contrived every amuse- 
ment that could contribute to the pleasure of his choicest 
friends. In the arrangement of everything around him 
was to be seen a quiet desire to please, and his only flattery 
was that addressed to the eye of those who knew how to 
enjoy beautiful objects and how to appreciate what they 
saw. He had traveled in different countries and had 
seen things delightful as well as useful, making it his 
study to combine these in such a manner as to con- 
tribute to his convenience and pleasure as well as to that 
of those around him. His chateau had been planned by 
himself after his own drawings, a work for which he was 
eminently qualified, both by education and inheritance. 
The grounds showed an adaptation of foreign landscape 
gaidening to the wild scenery of our own country. The 
most commanding point had been selected for his house, 
and, taking advantage of the conformation and slope of 
the soil, he had so arranged as to have an extensive lawn 
in front, with an almost imperceptible incline for about 
a quarter of a mile down to the water's edge. A sea-wall 
of pure white stone bordered the margin of the bay, along 
which were planted at intervals the weeping willow, and 
when seen from the bay the effect was most beautiful — 
the water washing the base of the wall reflected its image 
and that of the inverted trees, whose trailing branches 
touched its surface. 



IN EARLY DAYS, 127 

The landing-place at the foot of the avenue was a 
semi-circular recess with concentric steps, in the center 
of which was moored a small yacht for fishing and pleas- 
ure parties, with an elegant cabin and awnings fore and 
aft in front of its doors, provided with lounges, cushions, 
etc., every convenience for aquatic excursions. Beside 
this lay a Venetian gondola, which my friend, in one of 
his freaks of fancy, had brought from Venice with the 
costume of a gondolier, and had taught one of his men 
to manage it." 

From this we might land readily upon the steps be- 
fore mentioned (not unlike the Venetian style), which 
led to a small marble edifice resembling in general out- 
line a triumphal arch with a large semi-circular recess 
in the center, with a seat like a large niche, with two 
smaller niches on each side about the height of the breast, 
in which statuary figures were placed. 

This was designed in imitation of those retreats he 
had seen at the Gate of the Tombs at Pompeii and at 
Hadrian's Villa. 

The front of the mansion facing the bay was of the 
Doric order, having a portico of six columns projecting 
and flanked by two wings with pilasters. On each side 
of the grass-bordered avenue the ground had been ar- 
ranged to some width and so graduated as to form hang- 
ing gardens, slopes, and graveled walks, fountains and 
cascades, interspersed with casts of statues prepared for 
the purpose, whose whiteness contrasted finely with the 
verdure of the foliage. 



128 OVER SEAS 

The cascade of the creek being higher than the level 
of the mansion rendered it easy to convey the water to 
the roof even of the chateau, so that each room might 
be supplied, and in each chamber water was constantly 
playing from some grotesque figure into marble reser- 
voirs. By pipes the water was carried in every direction 
around the grounds, forming mimic waterfalls, fish- 
ponds, islands, and rivulets, and concentrating in one 
large fountain of about 20 feet in height at the foot 
of the garden, where it mingled at length with the waters 
of the bay. There was a coolness imparted to the at- 
mosphere by this constant flow, and an evergreen fresh- 
ness to the verdure by the humid spray. The vestibule 
or entry which opened into the portico of the chateau 
was of an elliptical form and spacious, having niches 
around it in which statues were placed. 

One part of the chateau was appropriated to the 
domestic affairs of the family and kept distinct from the 
other part, which latter was used for study and retire- 
ment, and it is here that my friend had evinced his rul- 
ing passion and had dedicated it to the Muses. 

From this side of the elliptical room a spacious 
arched entry reached to the extremity of the eastern 
wing, terminating with a large circular window beau- 
tifully draped with curtains and corniced with military 
trophies. 

Fluted Corinthian pillars stood at regular intervals 
on each side of the passage, marking the compartments 
which were assigned to the different Muses. Without en- 



IN EARLY DAYS. 129 

tering into minute particulars as the writer has done, 
many of a personal nature, and not intended for pub- 
lication, I may add, in general terms, that the furnish- 
ing and ornaments of the chateau, as described, harmo- 
nized in every particular with the taste of my father's 
friend. I had at first supposed that the letters from 
Europe were written to this ''old college chum who had 
built for himself something more than a phantom castle 
in the air, and could well understand the inspiration 
which dictated the letters from abroad to this friend at 
home; but within the past month I have found a letter 
from a lady friend of my father's, indicating that it was to 
her the letters were written, and that they were treasured 
by her for many years. 

Now^ that the reader has become acquainted with 
the young writer through the medium of these long- 
lost letters, I may venture the following from Mrs. J. 
Bayard Smith's series of letters, ''First Forty Years of 
Washington Society" : 

"August 9, 1 83 1. 



"I have had a call from Mr. John Farley, one of the 
most amiable and agreeable young men. He is hand- 
some, highly informed, and an intellectual man of most 
exemplary morals." 



I have further disco /ered from the official record, 
that two years after my fathers graduation from the 
Military Academy in 1S23, and when he was a lieutenant 



I30 OVER SEAS 

of the First Artillery, that he was engaged in the survey 
of the route of the proposed canal across Cape Cod, the 
construction of which at this date, 1907, is about to be 
undertaken and carried to completion : 

''A survey of the valley and ponds, auxiliary to 
a, contemplated canal between Buzzard and Barnstable 
Bay, State of Massachusetts, and town of Sandwich, 1825, 
was made by Frederick Searle, 4th Artillery, W. D. Thomp- 
son, ist Artillery and W. B. Thompson, lieutenant ist 
Infantry, under the direction of Major Perrault, United 
States Top. Eng'rs. 

"Drawn by Lieutenant W. B. Thompson. 

^'Etched by Lieutenant John Farley." 

My father was on duty in the War Department, 
Topographical Bureau, in 1826, and in 1827 engaged in 
the Army engineer survey of the canal route of the Ches- 
apeake Bay to Lake Erie. When Prof. Hassler, a dis- 
tinguished German scientist, was organizing the United 
States Coast Survey, as its superintendent in 1837, and 
while seeking qualified West Point officers for the work, 
he tendered to Lieutenant Farley the position of assist- 
ant. This oflfer was immediately accepted in the same 
year, and before his death, July 31, 1874, he had at- 
tained the rank of senior assistant in the Geodetic branch 
of the survey. 

The care that was exercised in the triangulation 
work of the survey cannot better be illustrated than 
by citing an instance where a base-line was measured 
near Baltimore with the chain by Assistant Blunt, this 



IN EARLY DAYS. 131 

officer working down Chesapeake Bay, and another base 
at Cape Henloi>en, Delaware, by Assistant Farley, this 
officer working on the outer coast of Maryland and Vir- 
ginia, and when the work was completed the latitude 
and longitude of the closing point at Cape Charles, Va., 
separately determined by each party, was found to be 
within 5 feet of each other, a mean error of 2 feet 
6 inches ; and in all of this Geodetic Survey, covering an 
area of hundreds of miles and a period of many years, 
no communication had been allowed between the parties, 
the more effectually to serve as a check upon work which 
was passed into the Coast Survey Bureau in Washington 
at the close of each season, there to be subjected to crit- 
ical mathematical scrutiny. The survey of the entire At- 
lantic coast, of the States of New Jersey, Delaware, Mary- 
land, and Virginia, as well as that of the rivers Potomac, 
York, and James, was also completed by Assistant John 
Farley, before the Civil War, and he was in frequent 
communication during that war with the military author- 
ities of the War Department, who, I am informed, found 
the survey and charts of the rivers named of inestimable 
value in the conduct of the campaigns of 1862, '64, and 
'65. No higher tribute could be paid than that expressed 
by the superintendent of the survey in his obituary cir- 
cular announcing the death of my father in 1874, where- 
in he says: 

"In all the climates of our extended coast, at all sea- 
sons, through his advancing years, and without remit- 
ting for private affairs, Mr. Farley was ever ready cheer- 



132 OVER SEAS 

fully and ably to perform any field duty committea to 
his charge, and the archives of the survey have been spe- 
cially enriched by his industry and his skill." 

When I reflect upon a chance [^destruction of an old 
house on Capitol Hill, in Washington, D. C, in 1905, 
as the means of bringing to light the letters I have un- 
dertaken to publish, and which save for that chance 
must have remained forever hidden from sight, I am 
brought to consider the words uttered on another occa- 
sion, ';^though with different application : 

*** * * * these fragments remain to show. 
They still exist and may still exist long after we, who now 
lament their decay, shall have passed away and been 
forgotten. 

"They are as pages in the book of History, telling in 
the language of Ossian a tale of the times of old — the 
deeds of days of other years." 

And here let me add the military history of the young 
writer as it appears in CuUum's Biographical Register : 

"Military History. — Cadet at the Military Academy, 
June 24, 18 19, to July i, 1823, when he was graduated 
and promoted in the Army to brevet second lieutenant, 
Second Artillery, July i, 1823; second lieutenant, First 
Artillery, July I, 1823. Served: On topographical duty, 
August 21, 1823, to May 21, 1828; on leave of absence in 
Europe, 1828-29; on ordnance duty, May i, to August 
6, 1829; on engineer duty, August 6, 1829, to Decem- 
ber I, 1832; in garrison (first lieutenant, First Artillery, 
August I, 1832), at Charleston Har or; S. C, 1832-34, 
during South Carolina's threatened nullification, and a 
Fort Monroe, Va., 1834-35, and in Florida, 1835. Re- 
signed, February 29, 1836." 



IN EARLY DAYS. 133 

The Superintendent of the U. S. Coast, at the time of 
the death of my father in 1874, ^^ obituary orders, refers 
to his personal characteristics and in these terms: 

''The words lately uttered by our revered associate 
in his usual health and when about to start for the 
field, *I have lived the allotted time of life; every day is 
now from God's bounty; I am ready and await my Gen- 
eral's call,' are realized in the sad event. We recognize 
in their import his fortitude and his exalted sense of duty. 
In the immediate relations now severed by the death of 
our friend the memory of Mr. Farley remains to us a 
heritage of valued associations, due to his sterling qual- 
ities, cordiality and refinement of feeling, manly dignity, 
and unvarying kindness in the intercourse of life." 

Where the gauge of human life and the propor- 
tionate fitness of things is measured (as at the present 
day) by the scale and the ledger of "profit and loss,'' the 
thought here finds expression : 

Stands the "specter at feast," and we lose or we make 
By the false smiles we give and the false hands we take, 
And when the end comes, the false words that are said 
Merely balance the book for the man who is dead. 

We brought nothing here, we take nothing away; 
A life but the tinsel and sham of the day. 
By its tinsel 'tis gauged if we fail in life's plan, 
By its sham are we lauded or scorned as a man. 

'Tis a whimsical world, where we measure the dross 
By scales and the ledger of profit and loss. 
Some lives are well earned and some lives crassly spent, 
But for each and foii all, God will judge the intent. 










Jt^ii'f^tt y w^!U t'n A«rm0tt. c/^/Afsfft* f« 



13^ 



APPENDIX. 

BY 

Joseph Pkarson Fari^ky, U. S. A. 



The intimate association of my father with General 
Lafayette at "La Grange," as shown by one of the letters 
of the series, induces me to refer in brief to the interest 
manifested by Lafayette in the West Point defenses and, 
for reason which will become apparent, to the principal 
fortification on the Hudson River — Old Fort Putnam. 

On the morning of the 28th of September, 1780, 
four days after the capture of Andre, Major Talmadge, 
of the American Army, started with his prisoner from 
West Point to King's Ferry and placed him by his side 
on the after seat of his barge. They were passing below 
the rocky heights of West Point in full sight of the for- 
tress when Talmadge asked Andre "if he would have 
taken an active part in the attack on it, should Arnold's 
plan have succeeded." Andre promptly answered in the 
affirmative; pointed out a table of land on the west 
shore, where he would have landed at the head of a se- 
lect corps, described the route he would have taken up 
the mountain to a height in the rear of Fort Putnam, 
overlooking the whole parade of West Point — "and this 
he did," writes Talmadge, "with much greater exactness 
than I could have done." This eminence he would have 
reached without difficulty, as Arnold would have dis- 
posed of the garrison in such manner as to be capable 

135 



136 OVER SEAS 

of little or no opposition, "and then the key of the coun- 
try would have been in his hands, and he would have 
had the glory of the splendid achievement!' 

On September 24th, the day that the report of Andre's 
capture was made to Arnold, George Washington, Lafay- 
ette, and Knox started on an early morning ride from 
Fishkill on the Hudson to breakfast with General and 
Mrs. Arnold at the Robinson House on the opposite 
shore from West Point. 

Washington Irving tells us that these men were of 
the very few with whom Washington was disposed to 
unbend — the buoyant Marquis and the genial, warm- 
hearted Knox^ and that on this occasion the General 
commanding our Army was in excellent spirits. 

Washington, when nearing the Robinson House, 
turned down a cross-road leading to the river to inspect 
a redoubt, but was reminded by Lafayette that Mrs. 
Arnold must be waiting breakfast for him. "Ah ! Mar- 
quis," he said good-humoredly, "you young men are all 
in love with Mrs. Arnold. I see you are eager to be 
with her as soon as possible. Go you and breakfast with 
her, and! tell her not tO' wait for me." The Marquis and 
General Knox turned off, however, and accompanied 
him, while Hamilton and McHenry, their aides, went on 
with an apology for the delay. The latter officers were 
at the table when Arnold received the Jameson, letter an- 
nouncing the capture of Andre, and in the absence of 
Washington, Arnold was able to effect his escape under 
pretext of being called suddenly to West Point, a thing 



IN EARLY DAYS. 137 

he could not have done had the distinguished officers 
been his gpiests. 

At a later hour in the day, when the papers taken 
from Andr6 were handed Washington at West Point 
(where he had gone with Lafayette to inspect Fort 
Putnam), after reading them with his usual equanimity, 
and suppressing whatever of agitation he may have felt, 
he placed them in the hands of Lafayette and said, 
"Whom can we trust now?" 

It may here be remarked that Lafayette's interest 
in West Point and its fortifications was in large measure 
due to the fact that many of the works were planned 
by French engineers, with Colonel Gouvion as chief. 

In November, 1780, shortly after the above incident, 
the Marquis Chastellux visited its defensive works. Of 
Fort Clinton he speaks, as "a redoubt that is suffered 
to go to ruin," and he regarded it as "useless." Of Fort 
Putnam he says: "It is placed on a rock very steep on 
every side. The ramparts were at first constructed with 
trunks of trees, but later of stone, with powder maga- 
zines, bomb-proof, a large cistern, and souterrains for the 
garrison. 

A worthy and successful effort has been made to 
rescue from decay old Fort Putnam, as no project of ren- 
ovation of ancient works of defense is more entitled to 
such reclamation than this landmark of the Revolution 

• 

It deserves to stand as a memento of a critical period in 
national history. It could not be more appropriately 
placed, moreover, since it will be easily accessible to the 



138 OVER SEAS 

young men who successively receive a thorough training 
for a career in the military establishment. They can 
have no better influence near them than this structure of 
stone, which, nearly ninety years ago, has been described 
as "a shapeless and desolated mass of heaped-up granite. \ 

It is stated in Holden's Centennial Book on West 
Point that this important defense of the Hudson was 
commenced in April, 1780, by the Fifth Massachusetts 
Regiment, under Colonel Rufus Putnam, for whom it is 
named. Colonel La Radiere, a young French engineer, 
was very assiduous in planning and laying out Fort 
Putnam, and after his death he was succeeded by Colo- 
nel Thaddeus Kosciusko, a Pole, as engineer. The latter 
officer was much esteemed by his superiors and by the 
Army at large, he having had more practice than Colonel 
Radiere. The Marquis Chastellux, in visiting West Point 
shortly after the capture of Andre and the flight of Ar- 
nold, describes Fort Putnam. In addition to what has 
above been stated, he says: "It has three outlaying 
strong redoubts lined with cannon, and could sustain a 
formidable siege. Washington and Lafayette and Knox, 
after breakfasting at the Robinson House, followed Ar-- 
nold over to West Point, where it was said Arnold had 
gone when he took his hasty departure an hour before 
Washington's arrival, so that the General commanding 
and his associates inspected the fort a few hours after 
Arnold's escape on September 25, 1780." 

With these dates and facts in mind, one may read 
the following letter of Cadet Farley with appreciation of 



PLAN 

des Forts.Balleries 

eiPoste de A^esi-Poini 

1780. 




O Air^li^^ 
P Itan^- 



IN EARLY DAYS. 139 

the sentiment which was evoked by the crumbHng ram- 
parts on the wooded summit. The letter, with a veritable 
irony of fate, breaks off just at a place where it promises 
to be more than expressive, and I have ventured to supply 
the missing and it may he the closing words. The letter 
containing the description of the old fort is dated July 20, 
1820, and the boy cadet of sixteen was at the time a 
member of the Third Class, graduating in 1823, into the 
artillery arm of service. 

"West Point, N. Y., July 20, 1820. 

**|i* «l« -^ «i« *!• «x* <ii^ *i* 

0\% *^ "Y* »y» *y* "^ ^J^ ^» 

"This afternoon I turned my course in another di- 
rection and climbed to the heights of Fort Putnam, which 
now ruinated fortress once proudly commanded the river 
and plain on which the Academy now stands. This dilap- 
idated pile, when seen from the plain, still bears some re- 
semblance to what it was in its proudest days, but a 
nearer inspection at once banishes the illusion, and we 
now find it, after the lapse of a half-century, a shapeless 
and desolate mass of heaped-up granite. 

"I had seen a painting which represented it as it was 
'in days of yore, in days which tried men's souls,' and the 
comparison is truly melancholy — the change, though for 
the better, inspires us with serious thoughts of the decay 
and mutability of worldly glory. The painting to which 
I allude represents the fortress as it was, with all its prep- 
aration for offense and defense — with its posted sentinels 
and its standard of thirteen stripes floating above it. 
That standard has long since moulder'd to dust. The 
names of a few of those sentinels may be found on the 
mouldy gravestones hidden among the herbage of a 
narrow path along the margin of the river; their Con- 
tinental uniforms may be seen in moth-eaten fragments 



I40 OVER SEAS 

in the store-houses of the garrison, and the dismounted 
cannon, the rusted balls, and the embrasures now lie in 
one promiscuous heap in the valley beneath. 

"When I visit such scenes I cannot help indulging 
in the reflections which they naturally inspire. The feel- 
ings partake too much of poetry to be congenial with those 
of the world at large, but you, who know how to appre- 
ciate them and the enthusiasm of one of my age, will 
surely excuse them. 

"In the spirit of Ossian, I may say: *I have seen the 
walls of Baclutha, but they are desolate. The lira had 
sounded in the halls, and the voice of the people is heard 
no more. The thistle shook there its lonely head. Deso- 
late is the dwelling of Moina, silence is in the house of her 
fathers. They have but fallen before us, for one day we 
must fall. Why dost thou build the hall, son of the winged 
days? Thou lookest from the towers to-day; a few years 
and the blast of the desert comes — we shall be renowned 
in our day! The mark of my arm shall be in battle, my 
name is the song of the bard. When thou sun of heaven 
shall fail, our fame shall survive thy beams.' (Such was 
the song of Fingal in his day of joy.) Such are my re- 
flections on visiting those places which have become clas- 
sic from their connection with Revolutionary events, and 
a feeling of patriotism amounting to enthusiasm thrills 
through our breasts. 

"We feel a species of veneration for the soil our 
fathers trod and fertilized with their blood, together with 
a kind of superstitious awe, as if we were in the presence 
of their departed shades. We feel a curiosity to explore 
all those scenes which are identified with their deeds, and 
to inquire into all the particulars connected with the 
achievement of our independence. We feel a satisfaction 
in invoking the shades of our ancestors and brushing 
from their shrouds the accumulated dust of years. We 



IN EARLY DAYS, 141 

love to dwell upon their virtues and to emulate in them 
all that is noble or good or admirable, and to fix our 
studious attention upon those splendid models whose 
virtuous deeds we have from infancy been taught to 
venerate This desire to search into the past may be as- 
similated to that curiosity which prompts us to look with 
prophetic ken into the future. This desire is innate, and 
its indulgence is one of the most pleasing we can ex- 
perience. Man has a natural propensity to retrace the 
obscure mazes of the past, to review those objects which 
time has nearly blended with oblivion, and to struggle 
with memory in the renewal of the appearance and line- 
aments of those before whom death would interpose an 
impenetrable veil. Thus the lone cemetery, the battle- 
field, or the deserted city at times engage our sympathy, 
share our contemplation, and become the themes of 
poetic inspiration. To the poet or the philosopher the 
contemplation of such subjects is an enjoyment that par- 
takes more of a luxury than a mere melancholy pleasure, 
for they furnish aliment for the imagination of one and a 
moral lesson for the reasoning powers of the other — one, 
with the wand of fancy, repeoples every spot and, by tra- 
ditionary or legendary aid, re-acts every scene of the past 
drama, while the other, more calm and reflecting, finds a 
moral in each evidence of worldly mutability. In treading 
in the footsteps of our forefathers, which have not only 
been consecrated by their devotion to the cause of liberty, 
but by their blood, we are ready to exclaim, in the lan- 
guage of Ossian: 'There comes a voice that awakens my 
soul — it is the voice of years that are gone. They roll 
before me with all their deeds.' 

"We are willing to imagine that the spirit of our an- 
cestors, those heroes of old, still hovers around us and in- 
cites us to simulate their bold actions, and that their 
spirit deserves to rest upon their sons like the mantle of 



142 OVER SEAS 

Elijah, though their spirits, Uke his, have been 'caught up 
to Heaven.' This silent and dilapidated ruin that over- 
looks the halls, where sons of Revolutionary patriots are 
preparing in themselves a wall of strength to resist in 
future the encroachments of tyranny and oppression — 
what is it? 'Tis a fortress of '76; 'tis one of the cra- 
dles of our infant liberty; 'tis one of those noble bea- 
cons of independence which were alike the landmarks 
to freedom and the caveat to the oppressor. 'Twas one 
of those memorable spots which fostered the indignant 
spirit of our wronged country, and where vengeance pre- 
pared just punishment for the minions of tyranny. But 
how art thou fallen! We cannot help making this con- 
trast between its former pride and its present desolation. 
A few crumbling stones remain, which have resisted the 
inroads of time, and these are fast relapsing to their 
primitive state. Enough remains to remind us of the 
sacred trust entailed upon us by the former defenders 
of our liberties. 

"Whenever man resigns his empire, decay asserts 
her own, and with stealthy but sure effect proceeds to 
demolish the proudest works of his hands. 

"The ramparts, once finished with all the precision 
and regularity of art and enlivened with the busy forms 
and glittering arms of the soldiery, now present only 
mis-shapen figures, with here and there a stunted cedar, 
whose dark verdure is relieved by the distant sky, and the 
interstices of the loopholes or embrasures are filled by 
rank weeds- and the fissures of the stones with the lux- 
uriant ivy. The fallen postern is now hidden by the 
thistle and moss, as is the lowly grave. The watchful 
sentinel, who once appeared at its avenues — his quick 
challenge no longer wakes the echoes of these mouldering 
cells. 'The drum no longer proclaims the busy note of 
preparation' and startles the eagle from her nest, for 



IN EARLY DAYS. 143 

silence has long since 'marked the place for her own,' and 
her reign is only interrupted at times by the moaning of 
the winds and the shrill and fearful scream of the mount- 
ain bird, who exults from her eyrie over the ruined haunts 
of man. 

"Where, we ask, are those crowds which once in- 
habited this spot? Where is all that pomp of martial 
display? Where are those glittering ranks and those 
noble, those heroic souls, who preferred to ignominious 
bondage a glorious death — death ? 

"Yes, we are answered. In the hollow echoes of 
these deserted cells we are answered. Death has long 
since released them; death, with unerring aim, has swept 
them from the face of the earth; nothing now remains 
of them. But no. Even while I stood contemplating 
this wreck of matter my reverie was broken by the sound 
of approaching footsteps, and turning around towards the 
're-entrant angle' of the bastion, where the gateway had 
once been, I saw through the opening a figure slowly 
wending its way up the steep path towards the postern. 
It stopped and gazed wistfully around for a moment and 
then continued on. As he advanced I saw that it was a 
venerable and decrepit old man, leaning upon a staff with 
which he with difficulty supported his feeble and tottering 
frame, and who, from time to time, was obliged to stop 
from exhaustion to recover strength to proceed. Sur- 
prised at the sudden apparition of one whom I could 
hardly have believed would have scaled these heights 
without some powerful motive for so doing, I awaited 
his approach, and as he neared the place where I stood I 
could discover from his venerable aspect, the antiquated 
fashion of his costume and his silvery locks" [that this 
was none other than "Old Father Time"]. 

Exception, but of a very gracious nature, has been 
taken at my added words in brackets, the impression 



144 OVER SEAS 

being that this was some survivor of the Revolutionary 
War, who was there perhaps to tell us more of this old 
Revolutionary relic. For my own part, I prefer to think 
of the old man of the woods as I believe my father, in the 
metaphorical light, viewed him and was about to de- 
scribe him in the letter, faded, crumpled, and yellowed 
by age. 

The accompanying photographs — the one showing 
Fort Putnam as it appeared to my father in 1820 and to 
the boys of my date (i86i) as well — will be, it is believed, 
of special interest to the reader in this connection and 

indeed the as it appears to-day. A second 

photograph, showing the work now in progress, looking 
towards the restoration and preservation of this ancient 
work, "the key to the defenses of West Point," may 
prove of equal interest. 

Without digression, let me add a few words more 
from the letter of the youthful writer, who, in expatiating 
upon the natural beauties of West Point, shows what 
promise there was in this lad of sixteen years — a promise, 
I trust, that has been realized in his descriptive letters 
of later years : 

"One of these retreats," he says, "is lovely in the 
extreme, and this I have often visited whenever ex- 
haustion from almost incessant study would permit, and 
was as often reminded of those Scottish linns which are 
descanted by poets among the Highlands. In this se- 
cluded spot, with no other companion than my pencil 
and a favorite book, I have spent many happy hours — 
withdrawn from the noisy society and boisterous mirth 
of my comrades, and forgetful for a while of all that could 



IN EARLY DAYS. 145 

mar my enjoyment and of all sorrowful recollections. 
Here have I watched the sportive leaps of the little catar- 
act issuing from the numerous clefts of its rocky bed and 
its eddying whirls, as it bounded swiftly by my feet and 
went in joyful currents down the valley to its confluence 
with the river. Its rising spray, settling upon the verdure 
of the foliage and the mossy carpet of the rocks, im- 
parted a most exhilarating freshness and fragrance to 
the surrounding atmosphere. Here have I attempted in 
vain the graphic power of perpetuating such scenes till 
my pencil has been thrown aside in utter hopelessness of 
depicting them. The animated and living current; the 
fantastic boughs of overhanging trees ; the thick herbage ; 
the wreathing ivy and grape, and the purple grey of the 
granite rocks, all conspired to baffle the illusive powers 
of the pencil." 

And now, while I am at it, a word for the one of all 
others who can best understand and appreciate the senti- 
ment which belongs to West Point — to her sons, and is 
part of her very life — the dear one who has shared the 
troubles, joys, and triumphs of her own cadet : 

"There are," she writes, "certain tunes which make 
me actually see West Point. In the silent watches of the 
night, in fancy's dream, I hear the gay lilt of 'The Blue 
Danube' and see the slim gray coats whirling 'round the 
old hall in the giddy mazes of the dance with some fair 
partner." 

How many memories are treasured up in her dear, 
fond heart! How many like her have entered with per- 
haps a sisterly interest in all of a brother's class, and have 
felt the charm of West Point with youthful enthusiasm 
and intense delight ! 



146 OVER SEAS 

"Yes," writes the widow of a gallant officer and the 
mother of one not less distinguished, "I went to West 
Point in 1849 and danced with cadets. In 1863 I was 
present with my sister at the graduation of her brilliant, 
gallant son. We were all so devoted to him, and little 
thought that his career would so soon be over." 

Her words breathe inspiration, reflected in the mellow 

light of other days — of days "when we were young 

together." 

"May coming years with her most kindly deal, 
And sweeter blessings day by day reveal. 
Her cup of life with richest joys o'erflow, 
Health, wealth, and happiness — all the good we know." 



ADDENDA. 



The relations of my father and the family at "La 
Grange" may the better be understood from the three 
letters found in the package with the letters from Eu- 
rope. The "Fair Recluse" was undoubtedly one of the 
granddaughters of Lafayette, and her letter, written in 
a delicate hand on paper gilded on its edge (a rarity in 
those days), is "a perfect gem," as one of our country- 
women has been pleased to regard it. 

The letter of introduction to Lafayette was either 
from General Macomb or Secretary of War Barbour. 
The signature has been torn off. 

pX The letter concerning the vase may best be under- 
stood from the fact that when the frigate bore Lafayette 
from our shores to France on the occasion of his last visit 
to America, the midshipmen of that vessel made up a 
purse of $300 to purchase and present a vase of silver to 
the Marquis as a tribute of respect, and my father was 
requested by the American Consul to make the design. 

J. P. F. 

''The 'Fair Recluse' to the complimentary Chevalier, health 
and greeting: 

"She feels herself infinitely obliged to him for all his 
complimentary prognostications, but is rather inclined to 
suspect that upon a more intimate acquaintance he will 
find himself less dazzled than he at present anticipates 

147 



148 OVER SEAS 

by 'the full meridian splendour of those virtues and ac- 
complishments' which he has had the kindness to at- 
tribute to her. She assures him, notwithstanding, that 
the desire of becoming better acquainted is reciprocal, 
and she will certainly not fail to do so when next he 
crosses the ocean — should he retain the same inclination, 
after having had an opportunity of seeing how far the 
'full meridian splendour' falls short of his expectations. 
She hopes, however, that his estrangement from his 
friends and country will not be of so long continuance as 
to admit the full development of so much splendour. 
She begs that he would accept her sincere thanks for his 
kind remembrance of her in the beautiful little engraving 
which he has been so extremely good as to forward her, 
the beauties of which she was just about to expatiate 
upon, but the unsentimental interruption of the arrival 
of a music-master will prevent her. He must imagine all 
the pretty things she would have said. Unbounded scope 
is allowed his imagination." 

To Lafayktte) from the Secretary of War or Gen- 
eral Macomb. 

"Washington, June 22, 1828. 

"My dear Sir, — My estimable young friend, Mr. Far- 
ley, the bearer of this, visits Europe for the purpose of 
improving him in the sciences. He is a distinguished grad- 
uate from our West Point Academy, and very much be- 
loved and esteemed by all who know [him]. May I solicit 
your kind attentions and civilities towards him during his 
stay at Paris? 

"Present me, I pray you, to Madame, and believe me 
as ever. Yours most truly," 

(When found, the signature was cut off.) 



IN EARLY DAYS. 149 

''American Consulate). 
"Dear Sir, — On thinking more about the vase and 
your patriotic (for 'tis truly patriotic) offer of assistance, 
if you will have the goodness to furnish (in addition to 
Havre and the Vault) a view of the Capitol, it would 
complete the object. The Capitol would represent the 
arrival and the frigate the return of the General. The 
arms or eagle, like the civic crown, can be placed elsewhere 
in silver. 

' 'Very truly your obedient servant, 

"I. C. B. Barnkt. 
''Lieut. Farley, U. S. A., Paris." 



W 107 89 



'/ ./% °'^ 






, ^ 



<p .* 















f^ 



S"" .. 



'9^ A' 





'«♦ * 






^^. 





'«> » s 






Deacidified using the Bookkeeper 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Ox 
Treatment Date: f^Qy 



A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESE 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 160 




♦ 1 J^^ - * 





&. f « 











i 



